What I Deserve
by angeldylan628
Summary: Three weeks after Nathan and Haley's wedding and we find Peyton Sawyer in a downward spiral. Abandoned by those she thought she could count on, all she's looking for now is something to hold on to. Eventual Leyton.
1. The Cruelest Day Since Yesterday

A/N: Ok, so here's the thing...This is my first big fic. Twenty one chapters. I've had fics that were a couple of chapters before but nothing this large. I've been working really hard on it so hopefully it's good enough. Reviews are welcomed and very much encouraged. This work is done entirely from Peyton's POV. It is a Leyton, but you'll have to wait a while before that pans out. That's enough of my rambling I think...Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

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Chapter One: Cruelest Day Since Yesterday

January 21st 2006

Three weeks. Some might say that's a pretty long time. I say that these past three weeks have been the longest three weeks of my life. My life has been on a downward slump ever since that wedding. I've become a shell of what I once was (not that that was anything special). All my old friends have abandoned me. The only think I count on is my alcohol and my newly found vice, cigarettes. Three weeks and my life went from somewhat shitty to total crap fest. And there's no sign of improvement. I, Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer, am in a funk.

This is the cruelest day since…well yesterday. Why? My eyes are almost glued to the site before me. They sit across the room in a tangled mass within a booth. I don't know why I torture myself watching this. But it's been this way every day since the wedding. They come here for the music, or so they say. She brings him here to rub it in my face. I see her devilish smirk when she catches my eye. I watch as she purposely drags her lips across his neck in my plain sight. He doesn't protest, but he doesn't seem comfortable all the same. Poor guy. That's sarcasm.

I down another shot of bourbon. My body is so numb to alcohol now that it makes no difference what I'm drinking. I've been drinking for three weeks straight now. Every night. It all tastes the same going down. Sour. Just like me. I stretch my long arms over my head in the hope that it will straighten out the kink in my back. As a result my back arches forward for a moment and my eyes wander back to that booth. He's staring at me. A small smirk creeps onto my face which I hide well. It's good to know I still got it. But it's sad to know it's only lust. I return to my slouching self, a little warmer. That is until the devil in red lays her painted lips on his and I'm back to square one.

I need a cigarette. I don't usually smoke in the club. It's this whole reputation thing. I don't want people labeling me as a smoker because I'm not really. I only smoke when I feel like the walls are closing in. Right now I'm getting that feeling. So after three weeks of playing it safe, I ditch the reputation and start searching through my purse for my pack. I just bought them the other day because my old ones dried out. That's the problem when you only smoke four or five cigarettes a week. I finally catch the green Salem label and pull them out, my hands fidgeting with the crappy plastic film.

As I remove the cigarette, I catch Rachel's eye. Oh, did I forget to mention I'm not here alone. Yeah, I've found some new friends to hang out with. Mostly Rachel and Bevin and some jocks on the basketball team who happen to hate Nathan and Lucas. They love to bash them twenty-four seven and while it's annoying it's also a relief from the total godlike worship that my old circle used to give them. I love those boys to death but hell they're not perfect. But back to the important part, Rachel's giving me that knowing look. I hate that look. Ever since her accident, Rachel lives life to the fullest and that means she wants to actually live life. She hates my smoking and drinking. But this is Rachel Gattina talking, and she knows it would be hypocritical if she said anything to me. So she just sticks to those looks.

I roll my eyes at her as I stick the cigarette in my mouth and light it. Ah, carcinogens! How I've missed them polluting my lungs! A long drag. A flick of an ash. Back to drinking. I order another shot. This time a stronger proof of bourbon. Six shots and not a single bit of buzz. Something's definitely off.

Some upbeat Jimmy Eat World tune starts playing. It may be Fall Out Boy. I don't know. Lately, all music is sounding the same to me. Anyways, Rachel and the girls all decide it's time for the group to hit the dance floor. They drag the boys out there. I stay back like always because A. I don't like dancing and B. I'd rather down my next shot of bourbon.

Luckily, the bartender hands me my next drink before I get antsy. I stare at it carefully. I've never really paid attention to the color of bourbon. I tilt the glass forward and back looking at the light reflecting on it. I don't even notice when someone approaches and takes a seat next to me.

"Where's your head at Peyton?" says an all too familiar voice.

"It's currently reading bitter and lonely," I turn and look at Nathan quickly offering him my glass, "Bourbon?"

"No thanks." Instead he signals for the bartender to bring him a beer.

"Good. I'm not much of sharer," I mutter downing the shot, "What's up?"

"You're drinking yourself to death."

"Tell me something new, Nathan."

"You're avoiding Haley and me. And I happen to think that's a pretty shitty thing to do to someone who just got of the hospital."

"Well, if I'm not mistaken, people who just got out of the hospital shouldn't be drinking beer."

"First of all, I injured my back not my stomach so what's wrong with drinking? And secondly, don't change the subject, Sawyer."

"I'm not avoiding you," I say blandly, "I'm avoiding her."

"Haley?"

"Yeah, Haley. You're wife's such a bitch" I say sarcastically. I roll my eyes at his confused look. Clearly he didn't pick up the sarcasm. "I'm avoiding Brooke." The words roll of my tongue like poison.

"Easy there. I already knew that." He warns with a smirk. The bartender hands him his beer and he sits down next to me on the stool to drink it.

"You can leave," I say, not knowing if I want him to or not.

"I could," he says sipping his beer, "but I won't."

"What about Haley?"

"I told her I was coming over here. Besides I'm really just here to piss off Brooke." A small chuckle bursts out despite my attempted restraint not to show emotion.

"What did she do to you?" I ask.

"She told me that if I came over here, I'd lose all her respect and trust. And you know how much I like it when people tell me what to do," he says giving me a knowing look. I think back to all those times when we were dating and I had to basically beg for him to do anything remotely unselfish. Only Haley has that ability to order him around.

"So, I'm guessing Brooke's been playing dictator to you guys when it comes to me." I take another drag of my cigarette waiting for his response.

"Exactly. Haley says she's staying out of it. She refuses to take sides. And Lucas, well he's afraid to look at you or Brooke will have his head. And I'm not talking about the one he uses to talk." We both laugh at the fact that Luke's completely whipped by the devil herself.

"Eh," I shrug after my laughter subsides, "What can I do?"

"Well, here's one thing. You can tell me why you're drinking, smoking and brooding on this very barstool every night. Then maybe Lucas will get off my ass about making sure you're ok."

"Lucas?" I ask disbelievingly. Lucas could give two shits about me.

"He's worried about you," Nathan says looking me in the eyes, "He's afraid that you're self destructing or- what was it he said? Something about building up these walls that no one can reach around. I don't know. All I know is that he wanted me to make sure you're all right since he can't do it." All I can think at this moment is how dare Lucas? How can he just make assumptions when he hasn't spoken to me in three weeks? Granted, it's partially my fault that we lost contact, but still he's got me angry now.

"You can tell him the following," I say to Nathan, "Fuck you, Lucas."

"Really?" Nathan says quietly. I can tell he's shocked to say the least.

"Actually how about fuck you, Lucas. If you cared, you'd be the one asking me that. So why not just stay the fuck away."

"Angry at Lucas too?" Nathan quirks an eyebrow. I ignore his question using a straw to stir my next drink, a coke. I'm guessing Nathan ordered it when I wasn't looking.

"I want you to tell him that." I whisper, trying to force the tears back, "And if my ex-best friend happens to wonder what I told you about her which I know she will, tell her I said she can burn in hell."

"Harsh," he says shaking his head, "Any choice words for Haley?"

"Tell her I love her to death and I don't want to put her in between me and Brooke. She should just steer clear of me."

"And what do you have to say to me?" Nathan asks with another smirk.

"You're a good guy, Nate and I'm happy to see you're out of the hospital."

"Thanks, Sawyer," he says, "I'll come visit you." I nod as he walks back to his booth. I'm not exactly waiting on pins and needles for his next visit. I've long since left that drama filled clique, but I'm positive my angry remarks will only incite Brooke's bitchiness and Lucas's worry. And right now, I don't want either of them. At least, that's what I'm trying to tell myself.


	2. Drunky, Sleepy and Mommy

A/N: Hey thank you for all the wonderful reviews. I just wanted to let you all know that each chapter in this fic is a new day, so there's no skipping time. It'll take you through exactly three weeks.

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

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Chapter Two: Drunky, Sleepy and Mommy 

January 22nd 2006

I wish I had a hangover. Instead I have Rachel and Bevin passed out on either side of me. Bevin was drunk. Rachel was just tired. It's one of the side-effects of all the medication she's been taking. She gets really light-headed and sleepy if she over does it and whenever, we go out (every night, basically) she winds up falling asleep in my backseat during the ride home. I, being the wonderful friend that I am, let her stay here so that her parents don't bitch at her. They'd rather have her out all night than bothering them with her ailments. Basically, her parents are total douches.

Bevin was drunk because she and Skillz are going through a really rough patch. See, Bevin's a socialite. She likes to go out clubbing and drinking and shopping. Skillz is more of a homebody. Their styles have been clashing and now they're on a break but they're not dating other people. Bevin's taken to drinking to forget. Hmm. Where have I heard that before? That's why I let her stay here. Because I drink to forget. The thing about me is I don't get hangovers anymore. I think it's because I'm never really sober. And I stopped forgetting my troubles a long time ago.

I hear Bevin moan next to me. That's my cue to get up and get her some coffee. If there's one thing I've learned from taking care of my ex-best friend, it's that the best thing for hangovers is decaf coffee. I slide out the bottom of the bed and trudge downstairs. It's only seven o'clock which means I still have an hour to get the girls to school. I start mulling over time in my head as I start brewing coffee. Rachel takes thirty minutes to shower and get ready. Bevin will need at least forty-five. I showered after I tucked them in last night, so I'm good really. As soon as I'm sure the coffee maker is working right, I head back up stairs to wake up Bevin.

"Bev," I say shaking her shoulder, "Wake up." She rolls over and throws her arm on Rachel who groans.

"I don't want to, mommy" she mumbles. I roll my eyes at her before shaking her again. Let's cut to the chase, shall we? She eventually gets up and showers. Rachel follows suit when Bevin exits the shower. I feel like a mother sometimes with these girls. I get them clothes (Bevin brought a suitcase of her and Rachel's stuff over here…just in case). I make them breakfast and coffee. I drive them to school. I'm basically being the parents they don't have. The parents I don't have either because mine are dead or at sea. Another addition to the bitterness I'm wallowing in.

"Do we have to go?" Bevin whines as I pull up to school.

"Yes," I say shortly reaching for my bag.

"But Skillz is standing right there. I don't want him to see me like this."

"You look fabulous, Bevin," Rachel gushes. I internally roll my eyes. Rachel's lost her edge since that accident. No more bluntness and boldness. Everything's sugar coated or softened. It's nice…I guess. I just kind of miss the old Rachel. Not the bitch. The truthful one. Because I'm tired of being lied too.

"You look good," I reassure Bevin. She doesn't look bad, so it's not like I'm lying. But no offense, she sure as hell doesn't look fabulous. She's got bags under her eyes and she looks too skinny for her own good. But I'm not going to say that to her. Besides even with those flaws, she's still a pretty girl that Skillz should be pining over.

We walk into school, right past my old clique which happens to include Skillz. Bevin smiles at him. Rachel says hello. I say nothing. I look nowhere but straight ahead. Suddenly I hear a voice calling me back. I have two choices, ignore it or turn around. Well, I would have had two choices if Rachel who was linking arms with me hadn't turned us around. To my total shock, it's Haley. Did Nathan not tell her that I didn't want her taking sides? Knowing Haley, she probably ignored him.

She's standing with the group. While my eyes are focused on her, I can see them all in my peripheral vision. Brooke's scowling like a rabid dog. (I actually don't know if rabid dogs scowl…but it's the image I got watching her). Nathan is looking away from me, clearly upset his wife didn't take his advice. Lucas is staring at me. I can feel it, and I can also tell it's making Brooke even angrier. Which makes me happy in return. And then there's Haley. She's looking determined and yet I can tell she's scared having approached me. I wonder why. I mean hell, I don't bite or anything. What has Brooke been telling them since our fallout? I look at Haley oddly before nodding as a way to suggest she carry on.

"I was wondering if you found a replacement for tomorrow's gig?" she asks casually. I scratch my head. Rachel's practically been booking the music for me since the whole breakdown.

"Rachel," I say turning to her, "Did we find a replacement?" Rachel shakes her head at me. I turn back to Haley. "Nope. Why?" I'm kind of blunt, I know, but I need to get to class. Thanks to Drunky and Sleepy, I've been late the last three days of school.

"Well, I-umm," Haley stutters. I raise an eyebrow at her.

"We'd love for you to play Friday," I finish, hoping that's what she's trying to get at.

"Really?" she squeaks, "Because it feels like I haven't performed in so long!"

"Totally, Hales," I say flashing her a smile. A real smile too. Not one of those crappy fake ones I've been sporting lately. "Be there around six thirty for set up, ok?"

"Definitely," she says nodding her head enthusiastically.

I feel really self conscious all of the sudden. Lucas is still staring at me, but now I can see it's not a good stare. Brooke looks like she's about ready to make an insulting comment. I can feel it in my bones. Luckily, Rachel can tell too.

"Ok," Rachel says, "We're going to be late for class. And Bevin seems to have skipped off without us." And like that she swings me around and heads off with a wave. As soon as we're out of eye sight, I feel these tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. I try hard to push them back. I have to be strong. No more Pushover Peyton. I'm going to be tough and callous. I'm not going to care what Brooke or Lucas think.

"Easier said than done," Rachel says. Did I say that last part out loud?

"What?"

"I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I'm not going to worry about what those guys think about me."

"How do you do that?" I ask stopping in my tracks. She gives me a smile.

"I've always been good at reading you, Peyton. Remember, who was the first person to figure out you were still in love with Lucas?" I scowl at her, but it's an empty scowl because she's right.

"Tell me it gets easier."

"What does?" she asks.

"Not caring what they think."

"You never cared before."

"I always cared what they thought. Everyone else didn't matter, but they were different."

"You will get over them," she says emphasizing the 'them,' "Or they will lure you back in. Either way it's going to take determination to survive the rest of senior year." How right she is…


	3. Saving Your Life

A/N: Ok, sorry this is short...but it's a slow day for Peyton. I'm hoping I'll be able to post a chapterevery night.

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill or "How to Save a Life" by the Fray.

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Chapter Three: Saving Your Life

January 23rd 2006

I hate this place when it's not night time. I especially hate it when there's no music playing, but I have to be here. Bevin and Rachel have a later cheerleading practice than usual and that leaves no one to set-up TRIC for its Friday night rush. Rachel would have gladly skipped, but I wouldn't let her. She loves cheerleading, and I won't let her sacrifice that because I'm an emotional wreck. I can handle myself.

I forgot to mention I quit cheerleading. The only reason I did it in the first place was because it was what my mom and Brooke loved to do. But I actually hate it. I didn't think I did at first, but I do. And seeing as Brooke and I aren't on speaking terms anyways, why the hell should I keep doing something I basically see as torture? Now, I'm going to live for myself, now. In fact not that I think about it, the only thing I miss is the rush of the basketball games. I was never crazy about basketball, but it's something about those games. The adrenaline just sort of flows through me and I feel happy, if only for an hour. When you're at a game, you can forget. And I could really use some forgetting.

"Hey stranger," says a chipper voice from behind me. I'm awoken from my musings on cheerleading.

"Hales?" I ask, "Aren't you a little early?"

"Only an hour," she says sheepishly.

"Oh. What about cheerleading practice?"

"Brooke told me to take some time to prepare for tonight," she seems almost reluctant to mention Brooke. She should be. Just the name Brooke makes me glare unconsciously. "Well, did you decide what you're going to sing?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"No, that's the thing. I needed some time to think about it."

"Ok, well just let me know. I've got to work on some stuff in the back." I really don't, but I feel uncomfortable just standing there with a girl I used to consider a good friend. I mean I know it's the right thing not letting her in. If I do, then she'll lose Brooke and Brooke was really there for her when all that Nathan drama started and I was busy being angry with her. I really let her down, I guess. But Brooke was there and I don't think it's fair that she risk that. Because I know Brooke is vicious when it comes to these things. You're either with her or against her and God help you if you're against her.

I'm just heading to the back room, trying to ignore the frown on Haley's face when Rachel and Bevin burst into TRIC. They look angry. No, I take that back. They look furious. I set my box down on the bar.

"What happened?"

"That bitch kicked us off the squad!" Rachel yells.

"What?" I ask incredulously.

"She said that the most important part of a squad is loyalty," Bevin supplies, "So she asked that all the cheerleaders make a pact that they were loyal to her and her only. That we'd have her back no matter what seeing as she's captain and all."

"So, me and Bevin refused to sign it. She said whoever didn't sign was off the team."

"Guys," I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose, "You didn't have to do that. I know how much cheerleading means to both of you."

"We've got your back, Peyton," Rachel says immediately, "You've been here for both of us. A real friend doesn't dessert her girl in a time of need."

"Exactly," Bevin smiles, "And besides, without you there to keep Brooke under control, cheerleading's become a whole lot less fun." I smile at the thought of their crazy cheer captain.

"Well thank you for your loyalty." I give them both big hugs, trying to suppress my tears. I can't believe it. For the first time in a long time, it feels like someone's really got my back. I look up and see Haley watching us. She gives me a sad smile before turning away. Whether she likes it or not, Brooke's going to make her sign that pact. If she refuses, she loses Brooke. If she signs, she's no longer neutral.

Two hours later Haley's getting ready to go on. She still hasn't told me what she's playing, but Rachel just went to find out. I'm sitting on my usual stool with my usual bourbon. Lucas, Brooke and Nathan are here, in their usual booth. Brooke looks like her normal, skanky self. Super short skirt, extremely low cut top, stilettos and bold make-up. Lucas looks incredibly sexy tonight. I hate saying that, but he does. His hair is a little more disheveled than usual. He kind of looks like he did during early junior year. The thought sends chills down my spine, and I immediately take another shot to suppress the thoughts. Rachel joins me at the bar not long after. She orders a water bottle.

"Haley chose a song."

"And it happens to be?"

"A surprise," Rachel says, "Just watch."

"You mean listen," I quirk. She gives me that look, the one that says, 'Shut the hell up, Peyton! You know what I mean!' Bevin has done the honors of introducing Haley to the crowd. Now, she heads back to our little corner.

"Hey girls," Bevin says scooting onto the barstool on my other side.

"Bevin," I nod, as Haley takes her place on stage. She sits down in the center of the stage at the piano. She fixes the microphone so it's even with her mouth.

"I'd like to dedicate this song to my good friend, Peyton Sawyer. It's a popular song by the Fray which I'm sure most of you have heard." Haley began, "It's called How to Save a Life."

"_Step one you say we need to talk_

_She walks you say sit down it's just a talk_

_She smiles politely back at you_

_You stare politely right on through_

_Some sort of window to your right_

_As she goes left and you stay right_

_Between the lines of fear and blame_

_And you begin to wonder why you came_

_Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend_

_Somewhere along in the bitterness_

_And I would have stayed up with you all night_

_Had I known how to save a life_

_Let her know that you know best_

_Cause after all you do know best_

_Try to slip past her defense_

_Without granting innocence_

_Lay down a list of what is wrong_

_The things you've told her all along_

_And pray to God she hears you_

_And pray to God she hears you_

_Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend_

_Somewhere along in the bitterness_

_And I would have stayed up with you all night_

_Had I known how to save a life_

_As she begins to raise her voice_

_You lower yours and grant her one last choice_

_Drive until you lose the road_

_Or break with the ones you've followed_

_She will do one of two things_

_She will admit to everything_

_Or she'll say she's just not the same_

_And you'll begin to wonder why you came_

_Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend_

_Somewhere along in the bitterness_

_And I would have stayed up with you all night_

_Had I known how to save a life." _

As she finishes, the crowd goes crazy clapping and cheering. The only one not clapping is Brooke who's glaring daggers at Haley. But even Brooke has to admit, Haley did a great job. I'm probably clapping the hardest out of anyone and these tears are flowing out of my eyes like crazy. I feel so strange at this moment. It's like besides clapping I don't know how to react. So I wait until she's done and head backstage. And to my surprise, she's gone.


	4. Basketball Anyone?

A/N: Hey! Thanks for the reviews. You guys are awesome. I have to apologize for this chapter...I'm not a cheerleader. As a result,the cheers used in this chapter probably suck majorily. I tried, guys. I really tried. I hope you enjoy it, nonetheless!

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

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Chapter Four: Basketball anyone? 

January 24th 2006

I never got a chance to thank her. Or even talk to her. She just sort of left. I guess she might have been afraid of my reaction or something. I can be cold sometimes…ok, a lot of the time. I'm afraid to let people in. And most recently, I've been rebuilding my walls. So, I can understand why she might have thought her music would set me off. If anything, it did the opposite. It chipped away at the bitterness.

I'm still brooding though. In fact, right now, I'm in my room painting over my closet doors. The ones that had a list of boys (and Anna) Brooke and I were claiming for the year. I've been wanting to get rid of it for awhile, but I didn't know what to put over it. So, I decided to paint it dark purple this morning and write the lyrics to the song Haley sang over it. This is brooding because I have a frown on my face as I do it. I'm thinking of Ellie and my mom. Whenever I do anything artistic, my thoughts always stray to them. Lately, I've really been missing my mom, even more than usual.

"Peyton!" Rachel calls as she enters my room. She's been sitting downstairs for a couple hours.

"What?" I start putting away my brushes and capping my paint.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"What I do every night, Rach. I'm going drinking at TRIC."

"No you're not," Rachel says pulling on my arm for me to stand up. I groan at her attempts but oblige nonetheless.

"Where am I going then?"

"To the basketball game." I let out a very unfeminine snort which I try to cover up as a cough.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because who doesn't want to watch Brooke fall flat on her ass! She lost half the squad in less than a month," Rachel says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. I place my index finger on my chin and mull over the choices. Drinking or enjoying Brooke's suffering. Both sound like a good night.

"Ok, I'm in, but only if we stop by TRIC afterwards," I decide.

"Fine, but before we go, you might want to wash your face."

"Why? What's wrong with my face?"

"You have a big glob of purple paint on your chin," she says giggling.

So after I've cleaned off my paint covered face and changed into my Ravens long sleeved t-shirt and tight dark blue jeans, I'm ready to face the crowd. Bevin picks us up at around seven and we're off in her corvette with the top down, wind blowing through our hair. When we get there, I feel a sudden unsettling fear rise in the pit of my stomach. Rachel and Bevin hook arms with me, and they basically drag me into the gym.

We sit all the way at the top of the bleachers so we can rest our backs against the wall. Bevin and Rachel take off their jackets revealing their Ravens cheerleading tops and I can't help but grin. I didn't even notice they were wearing them, but I can tell this is going to be trouble. It seems Brooke's little stunt has lit a fire in Rachel. Her boldness is slowly reappearing in front of my very eyes.

"Hey, Peyt," Rachel says, "Look who's here." I glance down a couple rows and see Lucas making himself comfortable with the River court guys, including Mouth and Skillz.

"Oh no!" Bevin says, her face blanching, "Skillz is here?" I see the panic in her eyes and immediately calm her down.

"Relax, Bev. He probably didn't spot us."

"Hey Mouth!" Rachel yells. I give her a shocked look, wondering why she would do that.

"Hey Rachel," Mouth says a little shyly. He's not commentating tonight, just watching the game with the rest of us. Lucas and Skillz turn around and look at us. Bevin forces a wave and I just sort of nod. Mouth and Rachel continue having their conversation across the rows. Eventually Skillz turns around and Bevin starts talking to the girl on her left. Meanwhile Lucas and I engage in a stare off. He looks disappointed and sympathetic, and I'm trying my best to look cold and apathetic. I'm sure I'm failing miserably because I can't lie to Lucas. He always knows exactly what I'm thinking. So I decide instead of torturing myself like this I'm going to roll my eyes and look away. Unfortunately when I do that, he doesn't turn around and when I look back to see if he's gone, he gives me a knowing smile and lets out a small laugh before turning around. See what I mean! He knew I'd do that! He knew I'd look back! I glare at his back for a while before Rachel informs me the game's starting.

Just like Rachel figured, the cheerleaders are having an awful time. It looks as if Haley didn't show up tonight so there are only six of them. They stick mostly to chants, but no one can hear them over the crowd.

"This is sad," Bevin whispers almost sympathetically.

"I think we need to restore some honor to the cheering of Tree Hill High," Rachel smirks.

"What do you mean?" I get my answer a moment later.

"LET'S GO RAVENS! SHOW YOUR SPIRIT! IF YOU GOT PRIDE, THEN LET ME HEAR IT!" Rachel yells. The crowd around her roars loudly.

"R-A-V-E-N-S! THAT'S THE WAY **WE** SPELL SUCCESS!" Bevin shouts, joining in. She and Rachel continue exchanging cheers and I'm slowly getting a headache. The crowd is really reacting to them, now. At first, it was just our section, but now it's everybody. I feel the adrenaline pumping, and like I said before, it's making me forget all about my issues and even my headache.

"COME ON RAVENS SHOOT THAT BALL! NATHAN SCOTT CAN'T MAKE THEM ALL!" The words just sort of fall out of my mouth when I see Nathan double teamed in the corner and Tim still looking for a way to get the ball to him. The crowd laughs and cheers back, "SHOOT IT TIM!" He does and it goes in. Nathan sends a smirk my way and I wink. So there's one thing I got out of our relationship. I remember some stuff about the game.

"Good job, Peyt," Rachel says patting me on the back, "I was wondering how long it would take you to get into it."

A half hour later, the game's over and everyone's filing out of the gym. It was a success. The Ravens won, and the entire gym was on their feet with the help of us, three. My throat is sore and my ears are still buzzing. Rachel and Bevin stay behind for a little to talk to some of the girls while I head out.

"Hey, Peyton. Great job!" Mouth says as I pass him. I notice Lucas is watching us as inconspicuously as possible.

"Thanks, Mouth," I reply, shoving my hands in my pocket, "Just trying to help out the team."

"It seems like you've got cheerleading in your blood." I avert my eyes to the floor.

"I guess," I shrug. I'm saved from the awkwardness when Rachel approaches me and wraps an arm around my shoulder.

"I believe I owe you a drink, Ms. Sawyer," she says.

"That you do."

"Well then we better go! Mouth you feel like joining us?"

"Alcohol and I don't mix well," Mouth says, "Maybe another time."

"Give me a call," Rachel says with a smile as she pulls me off.

"Bye, Mouth," I call back turning around to wave at him. I see Lucas giving me another disappointed look. I ignore it again. Suddenly, I feel like I'm going to need something stronger.


	5. Cigarettes, Coffee and Dinner

A/N: Hey guys...So I have good news and bad news. Good news is theLeytonconfrontation is coming soon. Bad news is it's next chapter. But enjoy this one anyways!

Disclaimer: I don't own One TreeHill.

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Chapter Five: Cigarettes, Coffee and Dinner 

January 25th 2006

I wake up early for a Sunday. It's only nine. There's no Rachel or Bevin in my bed today. Rachel's parents are away for a couple of days so she let Bevin crash there. Once again, Bevin got drunk. I was good last night though. Only four shots and one beer. I smoked a lot more than I should have. Three cigarettes last night alone. Usually, I don't smoke that many in a week.

I immediately head for the sink to brush my teeth. The tobacco has left a disgustingly bitter taste in my mouth. Unfortunately, it seems that no matter how much toothpaste and mouthwash I use the taste just won't go away. I even try eating some cereal and toast, but to no avail. I know what I need. Some coffee. Coffee always covers up bad taste. At least that's what I think. I shuffle through my cabinets looking for the filters for the coffee maker. It seems like I used them all these past few weeks with Rachel and Bevin here. I try to find some of those instant packets but they're all gone too.

"Great, just great," I mumble, "I'll have to go out to get my coffee." I sigh pulling on a sweatshirt and heading out the door. I just want to get this over with.

I head to Karen's because it's the only decent place to get a cup of coffee. I have my hood up and a pair of oversized sunglasses on so that hopefully no one will recognize me. I walk in and approach the counter. No one's there, not just at the counter but in the whole place. I tap my fingers impatiently waiting for someone to come.

"Peyton, you need to get a better disguise," Karen says coming out of the back, "The whole Unabomber look just doesn't suit you."

"Sorry," I say pulling off the glasses, "I just don't want to run into anybody." And by anybody I mean Brooke. Seeing as Brooke and Karen are close, I wouldn't be shocked if she was hanging around here.

"Brooke's at cheerleading practice all day," she says knowingly, "And Lucas is at River Court."

"Oh," I pull down my hood as well. I didn't even think about the idea of running into Lucas, but now that she says it, I'm glad he's not here. "Can I get a cup of coffee to go?"

"Sure thing." Karen processes my order while I resume my tapping on the counter.

"So, I saw you cheering yesterday at the game," Karen says offhandedly as she pours my cup.

"Rachel's idea," I say quickly, almost as if I'm ashamed. I shouldn't feel ashamed of it, right? I mean it's not like we did anything illegal. But I have to admit it was a little underhanded. I mean we could have followed along with Brooke's cheers instead of just starting our own…but where's the fun in that?

"I guess you and Brooke are still not talking."

"If you consider her insulting me talking, then yeah we're talking," I blurt out. Karen has that affect on you. She can get you to open up. I bet it's where Lucas gets it from.

"It will get better." She hands me my coffee with a sympathetic smile. "Just don't be a stranger." There are a lot of responses I could give to that, but I don't say anything. I just nod and pay her for the coffee.

It's easy for people to assume that I'm being a stranger. I'm the one who's pushing them away. But am I really? I mean when I rewind the events of the past three weeks, I can't see it being my fault that I no longer talk to Haley, Nathan and Lucas. After the wedding, I went to visit Nathan in the hospital. Brooke showed up. We fought in the hallway. She stormed out. I apologized to Haley for the unnecessary excess drama. Our first day back at school Haley was eating lunch with Brooke. Of course, Lucas was with them (Nathan was still in the hospital). So I ate with Rachel and Bevin. Haley could have joined us the next day, but she didn't. Nathan and I are two lockers away and he didn't say a thing to me when he came back last week. Lucas, well, don't even get me started on Lucas. He's just an ass! It's like they're all afraid of Brooke. So I didn't really push them away did I? I didn't become the stranger! I just found some new friends who actually cared.

I'm so wrapped up in my thoughts that I don't even notice that I've passed my car. In fact, I'm all the way at the end of the block. I stop shortly at the end causing the person trying to cross the path behind me to instead run into me.

"Oh gees!" the girl says as she falls backwards onto her butt.

"I'm sorry," I say extending a hand to her, "I'm out of it today."

"Peyton?" The girl brushes the hair out of her face. It's Haley.

"Oh Haley! I'm so sorry!" I say it with a little more meaning knowing it's her.

"It's ok," she chuckles pulling herself up with my help, "I was sort of out of it too." As her chuckles die down, an awkward silence passes between us.

"You did a great job on Friday. I wanted to tell you that after you finished, but you just sort of left." I say breaking the silence.

"Oh," she says tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, "I was afraid of your reaction so I figured I might as well just bolt." I let out a chuckle.

"I loved it. And thank you Haley." We both start walking back towards Karen's Café.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around," Haley said, "With Nathan and everything, I just haven't had the chance to come see you. And with you and Brooke, it's not exactly easy to talk to you."

"It's fine," I say. It's really not fine, but I'm not going to gripe about it. She has to set her own priorities. Not that Nathan shouldn't have been a priority. I just can't help thinking I was only a phone call away. I'm pretty sure Brooke's not screening her calls. She's psycho, but not that psycho.

"No it's not!" she says, "I'm a terrible person."

"No you're not. You have to be there for Brooke. I mean I've got Rachel and Bevin. Who does Brooke have?" I say. It's true. Brooke has a lot of acquaintances but very few friends.

"I know why you're not speaking to Brooke," Haley says suddenly.

"How?"

"She told me."

"Is that why you've really kept your distance? You think I'm a terrible, boyfriend stealing bitch?" I ask quietly, trying to shrug off the hurt I'm feeling.

"Gosh no!" she says with wide eyes, "I know you can't help how you feel. Plus, it's not like you're going to act on those feelings anyways." I let out a sigh in relief.

"Lucas and I haven't even talked in three weeks."

"Yeah, that's not helping it though."

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

"The more you avoid Lucas, the more he worries about you. And everyone can tell when and why Lucas is worried. So Brooke gets insecure."

"There's no winning for me, is there?" I say, my frustration beginning to show, "I talk to Lucas and then Brooke will think I acting on my feelings. I ignore Lucas he worries about me. What am I supposed to do, Haley?"

"Keep doing what you're doing, I guess," she shrugs, "Lucas can decide whether he wants to talk to you."

"I want him to leave me alone," I say firmly, "Lucas and I were really close this year. I mean I kind of expected you to stay with Brooke and with Nathan in the hospital I wasn't shocked that he wasn't there, but Lucas. That's a different story."

"He wanted to be there," Haley says softly, "He just didn't want to mess things up with Brooke again."

"Whatever," I shrug.

"If I tell him you want him to leave you alone-"

"It's ok. Nathan already sent him a message for me." We've finally reached my car.

"This is your stop, huh?" Haley says.

"Yeah," I take another sip of coffee, "I'll see you around." I give her a one arm hug and open my car door. Just as I'm sliding in, she calls me.

"Hey Peyton!"

"Yeah?"

"Nathan and I were wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner Tuesday night."

"That would be cool," I say indifferently. Inside, my heart leaps a bit, but I'm trying to look aloof. I don't want to look desperate or needy. Because I'm tired of being that girl.

"Ok. Seven o'clock good for you?"

"Sure."

"It's a date."

As I drive away, I can't help but feel strange. This is the first time in a good while that I'm looking forward to something that doesn't involve drinking or humiliating Brooke. And that makes me feel a little better about my self. Then, Rachel's words echo in my head. _They'll lure you back in._ So much for forgetting my drama filled clique…


	6. Like I Could Really Stay Away

A/N: Hey guys! Finally, we get our first bit of Leyton interaction! Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

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Chapter Six: Like I Could Really Stay Away

January 26th 2006

It's Monday. Another wonderful week of school begins! (That's sarcasm in case you're wondering). I had an English project due last period and a Math test fourth period. Math, I wasn't worried about. You can't really study for Math anyways. Especially this Geometry crap their teaching us. When am I going to use this anyways? That's my usual response for Ms. Henderson when she tells me to try harder. Her response is that all artists need to know angles and shapes. But that's bullshit because I draw with my eye not a ruler and compass.

Art is not a matter of calculations and preciseness. It's trial and error. It's mistakes. Now that I think about it…maybe that's why I like art so much. After all, I'm a walking, talking, breathing mistake. I mean I wasn't a planned pregnancy, now was I? I was a mistake. I was given up for adoption by my birthmother. Then, the first time I truly fell in love, it was a mistake. His words, not mine. I thought it was wrong, but I wouldn't take it back. Lucas, on the other hand, would because it hurt Brooke.

Poor, precious Brooke. Lucas really hurt her. Who cares how Peyton felt after Lucas broke her heart! Twice, mind you! First being when he decided to jump in the sack with one Brooke Davis not even a couple of days after saying he wanted to be with me!

Second being when he slept with some bar slut not more than two weeks after we broke up! No those heartbreaks don't matter because they were mistakes! All we should focus on is Brooke. Because Lucas really hurt Brooke. As for Peyton, she'll live. She always does.

As you can tell, I'm in a really broody, bitter mood today. I don't even know why. I just am. I mean yesterday I was really chipper. Life almost seemed like it was getting back on track. Then this morning I wake up with a killer headache. I go downstairs to get some Advil and what do I find? Brooke's hidden "PMS bag" of candy on the back shelf. I start thinking of Brooke, promising myself I won't cry. Losing your best friend is a lot harder than I might make it sound. Sure, I hate her for everything she's put me through. I hate the fact that she wouldn't listen to me. Or the fact that it was always Brooke number one and Peyton number two. I hate that the difference between me and her is I gave up Lucas for her. She would never even consider it.

I hate all those things and yet I love her so much for everything else. She stood by me when no one else would. I was the awkward, gangly blonde girl with really long legs who everyone was afraid of. But Brooke didn't see that. She was the girl who sat with me through two months of tears and anger when my mom died. She came over with arms full of chick flicks when my dad left for long boating trips and I felt lonely. She didn't mind the bitchy, cold person I could be. She learned to adapt to it and work around it. She made it her goal to brighten my day when I was brooding. And now I don't have that. Yeah, I hate Brooke Davis now, but I also miss her. The old her, that is. The girl she was before Lucas Scott.

So, as you can see, today hasn't been good. Right now, I'm chipping away the paint on my fingernails while some kid rattles on and on about Chaucer or maybe it's Marlowe. I don't know. I'm not really paying attention. English presentations are always so boring. All I know is, I have ten minutes left in this stupid class and then I'm home free. Another day crossed off my calendar.

Ten minutes go by painfully slow, but eventually the bell rings and I bolt out of there faster than you can say, "Tree Hill High". I'm home in a matter of minutes, having peeled out of the parking lot doing at least seventy (No joke…). I make my way up to my room, throw my backpack on my bed and take a seat on my computer chair. I was in a rush to go nowhere. I've got no homework and no plans for another three hours. What the hell am I going to do?

Sketch. Yeah, I know, that's the most predictable answer there is, but with the day I had, I'm sure I can think of something dark and depressing to add to my wall. And besides, my sketchbook is just lying out there, waiting to be drawn in. It's calling me. I pull out a sharp pencil and let it move around the paper. I love the way I draw. It's effortless. My mind tells me where to move the pencil, how hard to press down on it to get the effect I want. Yet, it's like I'm oblivious to the work I create. I usually don't even notice what I'm drawing until I finish it. This drawing takes me about twenty minutes and when I look to see what I've drawn, I frown.

It's a picture of Brooke and I in our snow fort back in sixth grade. We're both huddled together in the middle of it, smiles glued to our faces. We look genuinely happy. I notice that the fort I drew is slowly starting to melt in the picture. Our safe haven is deteriorating before my very eyes. I tentatively place my pencil at the top of the work and etch in my caption. "Before the World Happened." Well, this is definitely depressing enough for my wall. I'm searching through my desk for a tack when I hear someone enter my room. Looking up, it's the last person I want to see right now. Lucas Scott.

"Hey," he says shyly, shoving his hands in his pockets. I can tell he's nervous. He should be. I don't know whether to yell or throw something at him. I opt for silence and continue looking through my drawers for that tack.

"Not speaking to me, huh?" he says. When I clearly don't answer, he continues, "I deserve that. I don't know what I can say to make it better. I guess I should start by saying, I'm sorry." At this point, I find my tack and walk over to the wall where I'm putting my picture. I'm listening, but trying to appear like I'm not caring, "I should have called you or came to see you, but with Brooke and all her trust issues, I just didn't want to-" I cut him off with a loud banging of my hammer on the tack. I don't want to hear about Brooke anyways.

"Peyton, are you even listening to me?" he asks. I turn around to face him, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You should just get 'I'm sorry' tattooed on your forehead, Lucas," I say with narrowed eyes, "It might save you some time with all the apologies you have to make." I make my way back to my desk, searching for my cigarettes. The walls are closing in again thanks to Lucas. I really need something to occupy my hands. Otherwise I'll be fidgeting, and fidgeting is a sign of weakness. And I don't want Lucas to see me as weak.

"Nathan told me that you didn't want to see me," he says.

"I believe my exact words were something along the lines of fuck you, Lucas. If you cared, you'd be the one asking me that. So just stay the fuck away."

"So you weren't drunk when you said that," Lucas muses. I glare at him fiercely.

"I don't get drunk. I drink and believe me, there's a difference."

"I'm sure there is." The way he says it is so smug that I just want to club him with this hammer I have, but I restrain myself. I have to remain apathetic and aloof.

"You can leave now, you know. I already heard your little pathetic excuse."

"I'm not leaving until I know you and I are good."

"Well then you won't be leaving for awhile because you and I aren't good and no excuse is going to make it all better!" I yell. So much for staying aloof…

"Peyton, what was I supposed to do?"

"Care! That's all I wanted from you Lucas! You're supposed to be my friend! And I get that Brooke is your girlfriend and that you have to be loyal to her too, but God damnit Luke you could have at least called! You could have stopped by! It shouldn't have taken you three weeks to come see me!"

"You didn't exactly make an effort to see me, did you?"

"Brooke doesn't want me anywhere near you! I didn't want to incite her anger."

"So what you did at the game with Rachel and Bevin wasn't to piss her off?"

"There's a difference between that and going to see you and you know it," I hiss, "See that's the thing Lucas. You have to change the subject because you have no good excuse for why you didn't come to see me."

"I didn't want to piss off Brooke either."

"Well you know what Lucas! Grow some balls!" I yell. I finally found my cigarettes, and just in time too. My hands are shaking like crazy.

"Are you asking me to choose between you two?" he asks quietly as I light my cigarette.

"No, Brooke already gave you that choice and you made it," I spit bitterly.

"I didn't make a choice," he says frowning. I take a drag of my cigarette and soften my voice when I speak again.

"But you did. And I shouldn't have expected it to be any other way. Your heart's with her and that means you have to make sacrifices to keep her happy. And if I'm a sacrifice, then fine. Just don't come here spewing off some bullshit about being sorry about it. I don't need your pity."

"I'm not giving you up, Peyton," he says firmly, "I need you as a friend."

"Brooke asked you to give me up, so you should do that."

"Like I could stay away," he mutters into his hands, thinking I don't hear him. He comes closer and pulls the cigarette out of my mouth suddenly causing me to gasp.

"Hey!"

"Cigarettes kill," he dies it out in my ashtray.

"Those are expensive."

"And deadly."

"I think I got that the first time you said it."

"When'd you start smoking?" he asks.

"After the wedding," I say quietly.

"Didn't Ellie die of breast cancer?"

"Yeah, I know! I'm a terrible daughter for smoking! But what else did I have, Lucas? I need something to calm me down!" I close my eyes and I feel the tears leaking out of the corners of my eyes. I put my head in my hands. Suddenly I feel a pair of arms reach around me and pull me into a hug. I fight him off at first, punching him in the chest, but he doesn't let me go.

"It's ok, Peyton," he whispers in my ear, "You're a good person."

"You can't just do this! You can't just come back here and make everything all right," I cry. I'm no longer fighting him.

"It's not going to be all right," he says honestly, "But I'm here for you, now. I promise."

"Whatever," I mutter into his shirt. He laughs at my attempt to be tough. He knows he's broke down my walls, yet again, "I'm not giving up drinking, just so you know."

"How about the smoking?"

"We'll see."

"Are we good now?" he asks as I pull out of his embrace. I wipe the tears from my eyes.

"As good as we'll ever be," I say, chuckling, "You're a terrible friend."

"I've noticed."

"Just don't worry about me at school, ok?" I say fixing the collar on his shirt, "Brooke doesn't need to know about us still being friends."

"I'm not ashamed of it, Peyt. Besides, didn't you just tell me to grow some balls?"

"Yeah well I'm just making sure you don't get those balls chopped off."

"Well thank you for that."

"What are friends for?" I say sarcastically. I'll never know how Lucas Scott is able to make me go from totally hating him to totally loving him within a matter of ten minutes. The problem is I totally love him and he totally loves Brooke. And that can only spell one thing: total disaster.


	7. Couples Everywhere

A/N: Hey guys! Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. You guys are awesome! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill, Led Zepplin, "Mad World" by Michael Andrews and Tweety Bird...what a random combination...

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Chapter Seven: Couples Everywhere

January 27th 2006

Guess what I'm doing right now? Go ahead, guess! Fine, I'll just tell you. I'm watching cartoons with a big bowl of cereal in my lap. See, I should be at school, but I ditched the last half of the day. I just didn't feel like going. Rachel and Bevin would have joined me, but they had to give presentations in speech class. So, basically it sucks to be them. They're sitting in class, and I'm laughing my ass off at Tweety Bird. I don't remember these cartoons being this funny. I'd almost guess I was high the way I'm laughing at these cheesy jokes. But I'm not high. Hell, I haven't even smoked a cigarette since Luke asked me not to…not that I did it for him…Ok, maybe I did. That's what you do when you love someone though.

Speaking of won'ts, I made a list when I got home of all the things I will and will not do. It's motivation to be a better person. I'm usually not that big on lists. That was more of a Brooke thing. She practically organized our entire life into charts and lists. She was always afraid of making mistakes or missing a moment. I wasn't, but I made this list nonetheless because it just felt right. So here it goes:

1) I will not smoke (unless I really, really need it).

2) I will not respond to Brooke's snide comments.

3) I will not judge others.

4) I will not act on my feelings for Lucas.

5) I will give everyone a second chance because I know better than anyone second chances are hard to find.

Five little things. Sounds easy, huh? I mean I'm already doing great with number two. I've always been pretty good with number three. It's the remaining ones that'll prove tough. Because smoking is addictive, I'm not naïve to think otherwise. It's also really hard for me to trust people and as a result, it's hard for me to take chances on people who've let me down before. Oh, and as for Lucas…well that's always proved hard for me. Maybe this time it'll be easier.

"Peyton, where are you?" a voice calls from my front door.

"The door's open just come in, Rachel," I call back, not looking up from my cartoons. I hear the door creak open. Rachel's one of the few people who still hesitates to just barge into my house. Most know I'm totally cool with it.

"This is what you skipped for!" she says incredulously when she catches what I'm watching, "Cartoons!"

"Don't mock Tweety Bird," I say looking up at the clock, "Hey did you skip last period then?"

"Yeah, I had Study Hall, so whatever. Bevin stayed for English. She said she'd bring you home notes."

"That's my girl," I say, "Would you like a bowl of cereal?"

"No, I actually came over to tell you about tonight."

"What about tonight?"

"I won't be joining you for your little self-pity party at TRIC."

"Ha, ha," I say dryly, "Why not?"

"I have a date," she says, a small blush creeping up her neck.

"Are you blushing Rachel Danielle Gattina?"

"No!"

"Yes you are. Who's the lucky boy?"

"Mouth," she mutters, looking away.

"Mouth! As in Marvin McFadden! The boy who's had a crush on you since the beginning of this year!"

"Yes, that Mouth. It's just a date. I don't know why you're getting so worked up."

"Because you're finally going on a date with someone who's good for you."

"I've done a lot of thinking," Rachel says quietly, "I need to be responsible. And Mouth's always been good to me. So I'm giving him a chance." I frown at her take on the matter.

"Promise me, Rachel you're actually interested in him."

"Oh I am!" she says quickly, "I just don't get why he's so into me. I broke his heart."

"Yeah, well you can't help who you fall for," I mutter scooping a big spoonful of cheerios into my mouth. She turns to look at me and I can tell she regrets bringing it up.

"I'm sorry, Peyt. I wasn't thinking." I swallow my cereal with a large gulp.

"Don't worry, Rach," I say patting her shoulder, "Just don't hurt him, ok?"

"I wouldn't think of it," she says with a broad smile, "So what are you going to do tonight without me?"

"I actually am having dinner with Nathan and Haley."

"Right," Rachel snorts, "And I'm actually having tea with the queen in an ice palace on the moon." I raise an eyebrow at her.

"I'm serious."

"Really?" she says shrugging, "Well that's a shocker. You're getting back into the clique."

"Don't worry, Rach. It's just part of my list. I'm giving people second chances. Besides you know you'll always be my girl," I say giving her a one arm hug.

"Of course," she says. I don't think either of us is convinced, but I'm going to pretend we are. I can't help but feel like Rachel is hiding something from me. I mean I've basically opened my whole closet of skeletons for her, but she's still a mystery to me. And I'm used to being the mystery.

I'm in my car now driving to Haley and Nathan's apartment. No music , not that music matters anymore. I turned it off five minutes into my drive. See, the last CD I put in here was a mix I made about two or three years ago. I put it in there for this Zeppelin tune, but when it ends this really depressing song by Michael Andrews comes on. It's called "Mad World" and it was in that movie Donnie Darko. Yeah, needless to say, totally depressing song. And seeing as I'm unstable enough as it is emotionally I just shut the music off all together. Though some of the words just keep echoing in my head.

Depression sucks. It's the only way I can describe it to you. I mean everyone gets depressed once and a while, right? But some people like myself, get it for no reason whatsoever and at any time. Something as stupid as a song like "Mad World" can set you off. Most people hear songs like that and forget about them two seconds later when the next happy-go-luck tune pops on. People like me don't forget it. We can't push the words out. Just like we can't push out the bad thoughts. That's why I spend my dark days reliving all of those bad moments in my life. The moment my dad told me my mom died. The moment I found Ellie dead. The moment I saw that gun pointed at me. And most recently, the moment Brooke Davis slapped me across the face and called me a lying, boyfriend stealing, two faced bitch…or something of that nature.

It kind of feels like one of those nightmares where you know it's a dream but you can't wake yourself from it. You can't stop the bad things from happening. That's what depression feels like for me. Eventually it ends. The thoughts fade out and all that's left is a light aching in your chest. Something's missing in your life. Depression reminds you of that.

This is where I let out a sigh and shrug my shoulders. Life goes on. I just keep reminding myself of that. Besides, I just reached the apartment and I can't go in there looking all broody and depressed. Nathan and Haley have had a rough month. No need to make them feel any worse. I walk up to the door, carrying a tray of cookies I brought. I ring the doorbell twice and push my bangs out of my eyes.

"Peyton!" Haley answers the door with a bright grin on her face. She pulls me into a fierce hug almost smashing my tray.

"Hey Hales," I mumble into her shoulder. We break apart and she spots the tray.

"You baked!"

"No, Mrs. Fields did."

"Oh thank God," Nathan says from the kitchen, "We want to be able to eat them."

"Very funny, Nate. I'll have you know I'm a great cook."

"I'm sure you are," Nathan says with a grin. We sit down to dinner which happens to be homemade by Haley. It's that kind of dinner I used to have when my mom was still alive. Chicken, rice and salad. I'm so used to my liquid dinner consisting of bourbon and the occasional beer that my stomach can barely handle a few bites of it. I feel bad because it tastes really good, and I don't want Haley thinking otherwise.

"What do you think?" Haley asks eagerly half way through our meal.

"It's delicious," I say trying to force a spoonful of rice down my throat. I gag a little and force my hand over my mouth.

"It's terrible, isn't it?" Haley says.

"No, Hales it's great," Nathan says giving me a look, "Peyton just was laughing at the face I made, right Peyton?"

"Actually Haley the meal is not the problem," I say wiping my mouth with my napkin, "I just haven't sat down to eat dinner in a month or so. My stomach isn't used to eating this late." I give her an apologetic smile.

"You don't eat dinner?" Haley says giving me a disbelieving look.

"I drink my dinner. I go to the bar at around six and don't get home until twelve. Then, I usual have to carry Rachel inside and hold Bevin's hair while she throws up for another two hours. By the time that's over with, I don't have enough energy to make myself anything. I just go to bed. I guess my body just got used to it."

"Oh." She looks down at her plate obviously regretting doubting me.

"We probably should have done lunch instead," I joke.

"You don't eat at lunch either," Nathan says moving his rice around the plate.

"I eat when I come home from school. In the morning, I don't have time to pack anything because I'm usually making coffee or running late." Why does it feel like I'm suddenly on trial?

"I know you eat breakfast," Haley says with a smirk, "How many boxes of cereal did you buy last week?"

"Oh my gosh," I blush, "You saw that!"

"Yeah, I was two carts behind you in line." Haley and I both share a laugh while Nathan looks at us with a raised eyebrow.

"What happened?" Nathan asked.

"I bought twenty boxes of cereal," I mumble.

"Twenty?"

"Well, half were to give away to the poor." I rationalize.

"And the other ten?" Nathan chuckles.

"What can I say? I like my cheerios."

"Eww!" Haley says scrunching her nose, "I hate cheerios." My mouth drops at the words.

"How can you hate cheerios?"

"I just do," she says, "I'd take a bowl of Count Chocula over it any day."

"And now you get to eat them," Nathan adds. Haley smiles back at him.

"Why couldn't you eat them before?" I ask, curious.

"Brooke has this whole cheerleaders' diet thing-"

"Don't I know," I mutter.

"Right, well, I'm not longer on the squad so, so much for dieting!" I choke on the water I was sipping as soon as the words tumble out of her mouth.

"What?"

"Yeah, well you know that pact Rachel and Bevin were talking about…"

"Oh, Haley," I sigh.

"I couldn't do it, Peyton. She promised me that I wouldn't have to choose sides and then she springs this pact on us! I wasn't going to be bullied into something like that. She understood why I did it and I understood why she couldn't let me be on the squad. It would be hypocritical." Yeah, that would be a first. Brooke being hypocritical. (Note: I'm being sarcastic again.)

"That sucks, Haley," I say, choosing to take the high road and not comment on Brooke being a total bitch to Haley.

"Cheerleading was never really my thing," she shrugs, "What about you though? Do you miss it?"

"Surprisingly yes," I say with a ghost of a smile, "Cheering was a lot more fun than I thought it was."

"But you still cheer," Nathan says with a smirk, "Just informally."

"Oh yeah! I heard about that! You and Rachel caused quite a stir at the last game."

"Hey it was actually Bevin and Rachel who started it! I just joined in," I say.

"What was your cheer again?" Nathan asks, "Come on Ravens shoot that ball…"

"Nathan Scott can't make them all," I finish for him. Haley cracks up at it.

"And Tim actually put up a shot and made it."

"Wow, Peyton," Haley says, "You inspired Tim!"

"Great. The world is a better place now," I say deadpan.

It's about two hours later and I'm ready to go home. I had an awesome time with Haley and Nathan. We laughed so much, my sides still hurt. I'm even considering skipping TRIC tonight. Bevin called during dinner to tell me she and the girls were still going and that I could catch up later, but I just don't feel like it. I feel like going home and getting a good night sleep. Maybe I'll even pack myself a lunch for school.

"I had a great time, Hales," I say as I slip my jacket on.

"I did too. We need to do this more often."

"Definitely. I'm sorry I couldn't eat dinner. I promise you, though, that it was really good."

"I'll just have to make you margaritas next time instead," she says giving me a hug, "Do you want your tray back. Because I can bring it to school tomorrow."

"No, you can keep it."

"Thanks for coming, Sawyer," Nathan says giving me a big hug.

"No problem, Nate," I turn and open the door. To my surprise and utter shock, Brooke Davis is standing at the door front, preparing to knock. Lucas is standing behind her. And all those good feeling I had before just evaporate in a puff of smoke.

"Oh look, Nathan and Haley have invited my lying, back-stabbing bitch of an ex-best friend over," she says, smirking from ear to ear.

"Brooke," Lucas warns. She just rolls her eyes at him.

"Don't you just look adorable today, Peyton," she says, "I can't even smell the smoke on your jacket right now? Did you find a stronger perfume?" I just put my sunglasses on and keep walking.

"Davis," I mutter trying to push myself past her. I refuse to respond to her antics. She stops me by pulling on my arm.

"Listen, I need to pick up the stuff I left at your house. When won't you be home?"

"I don't know," I say impatiently, "Just come over whenever and I'll stay in the living room."

"I'll be over tomorrow then," she says with narrowed eyes.

"The sooner the better," I say. I turn back to Nathan and Haley who are standing at their doorway, still in shock at what must be the worst timing in the world, "Thanks again for dinner, guys." I walk off but not before Brooke throws one more jab at me.

"Who wears shades at night anyways?" I hear it just as I reach the bottom of the porch steps. I turn around to see her looking at me in disgust.

"Your lipstick was blinding me," I say with a smirk before heading to my car. Ok, so much for not retaliating. She set herself up for that one anyways! Yes, I know that doesn't make it right. But she started it. She called me a back-stabbing, lying bitch. And though I've heard it many times before, it still hurts...but whatever, I'm over it.

I guess that's a lie. Because I've unconsciously lit a cigarette and placed it in my mouth. It takes two or three drags for me to realize that I just broke another one of my rules. If that's not bad enough, I'm driving to TRIC, intent on getting a strong shot of bourbon and trying to forget Brooke Penelope Davis even exists.


	8. Brooke Being Brooke

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the reviews! I love hearing your input! This chapter's kind of short and somewhat void of Leyton, but the next one promises a little more Leyton interaction.

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

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Chapter Eight: Brooke Being Brooke

January 28th 2006

I'm proud of myself today. Yesterday, I went to TRIC, and only drank two shots. Plus, I only had that one cigarette in the car. I was all intent on drinking until the early morning and smoking my entire pack when a sudden realization dawned on me. Brooke Davis does not have power over me.

See, Brooke can say anything she wants but at the end of the day, she's just covering up for her insecurities. She's intimidated by me and my friendship with Lucas. I can see why. Lucas and I have a lot more in common that she and him do. We never had to force our relationship. It just came natural. That being said, she shouldn't be worried. How many times does he have to tell her his heart's with her before she believes him? _As many times as it takes him to believe it himself._

Ok, I did not just think that. Lucas loves Brooke. He's made it clear to me before. I have to stop living in this fantasy world where I think Lucas is just going to change his mind and come sweeping into my room to tell me he loves me. It's not going to happen. Me falling in love with Jake again is more likely.

"Peyton, you're zoning out again," Rachel whispers. It's lunch time and we're eating outside under the tree. I actually packed lunch today. And it's not cereal. It's a sandwich with pretzels.

"Sorry Rach," I say, "What were you talking about?"

"I was saying to Bevin how we need to get her and Skillz back together."

"And I was saying that that's not necessary because we're just on a break," Bevin says picking at her own sandwich.

"I think we should have someone talk to him," I say.

"Who?"

"I don't know. I'll think of someone," I shrug, "Hey Rachel, not to change the subject, but how was your date."

"Well," she gushes a smile growing on her face, "It was quite possibly the best date I've ever been on." She says it with such confidence I'm taken aback.

"Really?"

"Mouth took me to this really nice restaurant. And afterwards, we took a walk on the beach."

"Wow, that sounds so romantic," Bevin sighs.

"It was. And you know what was the best part?"

"What?" I ask.

"He was a perfect gentlemen. He opened doors for me, pushed in my chair, held my hand. It was an entirely new experience for me."

"Aww," Bevin squeals.

"And it ended with the perfect kiss," she says. Then suddenly she frowns, "What am I turning into?" Bevin and I both laugh at her.

"A non-slut maybe," I joke. She hits me on the shoulder.

"I've never felt this way about a guy," she admits, "It's so real. It's not just about sex."

"It shouldn't be."

"But it always was." She frowns again and puts her hands on her stomach patting it gently, "I guess it's about time I get used to changes." I look at her oddly, wondering what she means by that, but before I can say anything, a loud chorus of yells erupts from the table on the other side of the courtyard. I look up and see Lucas and Brooke fighting. Nothing new.

"Brooke and Lucas are fighting again," Bevin whispers.

"They're either ripping each others heads off or ripping each others clothes off," I muse. Well that's one thing I have to admit. They have a very passionate relationship. We all watch as Brooke slaps him across the face and storms back inside the school. Haley chases after her. Lucas rubs his cheek. I catch his eye for a second and offer an apologetic smile before turning back to my sandwich.

"He's still looking at you," Rachel says offhandedly.

"Good for him," I say. I can still feel him staring five minutes later. I look up at him and mouth a 'What?' He shakes his head and chuckles a bit before mouthing back, 'Nothing.' He can be so frustrating sometimes. And why is he chuckling when his girlfriend just slapped him in the face?

Rachel, Bevin and I are sitting in my room now. Bevin's sitting in front of my vanity brushing her hair. Rachel lying down on the bed and I'm drawing at my computer desk as always. This picture is of the fight we just witnessed today between Brooke and Lucas. It's part of my year long series which I keep in a special book. When I was naïve to my feelings, it used to be the book where I kept the drawings of my two best friends. Now, it's where I keep the proof that they're not as perfect as they seem. It didn't start out like that. That's just how it ended up.

"So you'll never guess what I heard," Bevin says as she searches through my drawer for a hair tie.

"What?" I ask rather unenthused. I'm too busy drawing to really care about anything else.

"Chris Keller's back in town."

"No way!" I say putting down my pencil for a second.

"Yeah I knew that," Rachel says offhandedly.

"How did you know that?" I ask.

"Well, Chris and the boys go way back. We kind of hung out last time he was here. So, he called me to let me know he was back in town."

"I thought you thought he was a pervert," Bevin says.

"Things change," Rachel shrugs, "He asked about you, Peyton."

"Me?" I'm truly taken aback. The last time I encountered Chris Keller I slapped him in the face.

"Yeah, I told him you were hanging out with us and he wondered how you were doing."

"Strange," I muse before turning back to my work. Rachel stands up to stretch her arms.

"The wicked witch is here," she says as she peaks out my window, "And she looks pissed."

"Just what I need," I mutter. I hear Brooke throw open the front door and stomp up to my room.

"Girls," she says curtly as she enters with an empty box.

"I'll be downstairs," I say shutting my sketchbook. I hurry down the stairs and find a cozy spot in the living room to wait out this storm. Around five minutes later, Bevin comes running down the stairs.

"I think you should get back up there. Brooke and Rachel are going to kill each other." I roll my eyes, but head upstairs nonetheless. Their voices can be heard as I approach. Bevin and I wait at the door listening…ok, more like eavesdropping.

"So how are you and Lucas?" I can almost hear the smirk in Rachel's voice.

"We're just fine," Brooke hisses back.

"So that little spat you two had at lunch was nothing, right?"

"Every couple fights, Rachel, but being the slut you are you wouldn't know what it's like to be in a relationship now would you?"

"Actually I'm dating Mouth now." There's a long pause where I can almost picture the shocked look on Brooke's face. She doesn't respond though.

"So," Rachel drawls, "You should have seen the way Lucas was looking at Peyton when you left. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her." She pauses again. Clearly, Brooke's not taking her bait so she continues, "They have a connection those two. It's a shame that some people just keep getting in the way."

"You know what Rachel!" Brooke says suddenly. So much so that Bevin and I jump back from the door. "If Lucas wanted to be with Peyton, he'd be with Peyton! But he's not now is he."

"I hate to break it to you, Brooke, but Lucas is only with you because he feels sorry for you. Lucas just loves playing the good guy. He doesn't want to hurt you again. You may be with him, but Peyton's always going to have his heart, and that's what upsets you the most." It's at this point that I decide enough is enough. I love Rachel. Her heart's in the right place, but I don't want her to do this to Brooke. I'm not saying Brooke doesn't deserve this. I just don't want to go this far. I walk into the room. Brooke is facing away from Rachel, but she has tears in her eyes. She gives me a blank stare when I enter.

"Rachel, why don't you and Bevin go ahead to TRIC and I'll meet you there," I say quietly giving her a look. She nods and walks out with Bevin. As soon as I hear them leave, I turn to Brooke.

"I'm sorry about Rachel."

"No you're not," Brooke says packing up some of her stuff I shoved under my bed, "You think I deserved it."

"Doesn't mean I condone it," I say before turning around to go back downstairs.

"Do you still love him?" she asks as I reach the door. I look over my shoulder.

"Do you?" Neither of us gets our answer. We just walk our separate ways. I can't help but wonder if those words will be the last we exchange in this house. The house she and I spent most of our adolescence in. The house that she helped make a home.


	9. Lucas Being Lucas

A/N: All right. I'm going to apologize right now. I'm not good at analyzing Shakespeare but I did in this chapter. See, I don't really like Shakespeare...so it's hard for me to work around that. But like the cheers early on, I tried. I hope you enjoy and please leave a review.

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill or Othello.

Chapter Nine: Lucas Being Lucas

January 29th 2006

I'm late for school. Again. This time I have no one to blame but myself. Bevin crashed at Rachel's last night. I didn't meet them at TRIC. After Brooke left, I just felt like drinking alone. I'm sure that's not healthy, but whatever. Drinking and smoking in general aren't healthy. The setting can't make it any worse. I found a bottle of Jack Daniels in my dad's room and I sat on my back porch watching the rain, slowly sipping the stuff. It was one of the most peaceful nights I've had.

Unfortunately, I didn't get to bed until three and by that time I was a little dizzy so it took me forever to find my bed. Jack Daniels has that effect on me. That's why I don't drink it often. I woke up at eight with a gigantic headache, but not exactly one that I would call a hangover. I'm thinking it was actually from the cold wind I sat in for six hours. Whatever it was it kept me from getting to school before first period.

I'm just arriving in time for second period which conveniently is a free period. I've decided to take a stroll to the library instead of going to the art room as I usually do. When I get there, I settle into a table in the far back. I should probably be working on my English homework or at least looking like I'm doing my English homework. I have the book out and open to the pages where various Shakespeare works sit, but my mind is somewhere else. I'm staring at the spot where I found out it was a bullet in my leg, not glass.

You can still see the blood stains. The janitors tried to wash it out but there's still a faint rust-like tint to the blue carpet. That's my blood and it will never fade away. It will always be there. My constant reminder of the day I thought I would die. The day I was rescued by my knight in shining armor. Lucas Scott. When I see it, I think of the hours spent in that library. The fear of dying weighing down upon my stomach. The cold feeling of regret pouring into my veins. I'm staring at that spot now. Reliving all those terrible feelings.

"A penny for your thoughts," Lucas says as he slips into the chair across from me. I didn't even see him come in. I was too entrapped in my thoughts. This is not a good time for him to be here. I'm a real mess. And I only want him to see me strong.

"I was just thinking of stuff."

"Like what stuff?" Lucas mocks. I glare at him.

"Do you think I might be invincible?" I ask seriously. Lucas laughs at me before seeing my face.

"You're serious?"

"Yeah, I am," I sigh, "I just was thinking about all the crap I've been through. Two dead mothers. Drugs. School shooting. Countless broken hearts. Best friend gone. What will it take for me to just jump off a bridge?"

"Peyt," he says soothingly as he places his hand on mine. I flinch at the gesture. I'm just making this all worse for myself.

"I saw the blood," I whisper, tears forming in the corners of my eyes.

"What blood?"

"The stain," I say pointing at the spot where we sat a little more than three months prior. I pull the hand he's covering back and use it to wipe away my tears, "It's still there." Lucas's eyes flicker over to the spot. He stares at it and I watch his eyebrows furrow in concentration. I look down at my English book which is now covered in small tear drops.

"Peyton, look at me," Lucas says putting his hand under my chin and tipping it up, "You are going to be just fine." I can tell he wants me to believe him. It's the exact opposite of what he told me two days ago. He wants it to be true, but he doesn't know if it ever will be. I nod, wiping away the rest of the tears and leaning back away from his touch.

"So what brings you here?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

"I have study hall this period. I'm always here."

"You too?" I ask tipping my head. He nods, "I never knew that."

"Well, where do you hang out during free periods?"

"The art room."

"I should have known," Lucas smiles and my troubles seem to melt away. I smile back at him and shut my English book.

"So much for English," I sigh, "I just can't read this stuff. It's like garbage."

"We're reading Shakespeare," Lucas says, "How can you not like Shakespeare?"

"It's nothing against Shakespeare, Luke," I say, chuckling at the look of horror on his face. "I just don't get it. I can't relate."

"Hold on one second," Lucas says as he gets up and walks down one of the aisles. I wait for him to return, tapping my fingers on the desk. He comes back, a huge grin on his face. He places a tattered book in front of me.

"What's this?"

"Othello."

"Othello?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Yeah, it's by Shakespeare-"

"I know that," I say quickly. I know my literature.

"I think you should do this for your English project. You might like it." I look at the book and then him skeptically. "Trust me, Peyt." He gives me that gosh darn smile again and I have to roll my eyes.

"I'll start it tonight."

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It's exactly eleven o'clock and I've just finished reading that book. Surprisingly, it was really good. And I actually got it! Usually Shakespeare makes like no sense at all to me, but this time I was in to it. From the very beginning, I was hooked. With the turn of every page I found myself, mentally trying to warn Othello of Iago's evil ways. Iago was such an asshole! He was so insecure and jealous of what Othello had! He ruins Othello's life as well as the innocent bystander, Desdemona's life. Othello and Desdemona lose everything. So does Iago. And all over a stupid promotion.

I can't help but thinking of myself as Othello and Brooke as Iago. I doubt that's what Lucas was going for when he gave me the book. If he was, then he's one seriously screwed up boyfriend. But seriously, Brooke's done nothing but terrorize me since the wedding. The comments she throws at me combined with the various rumors she's started would be enough for any girl to break down and throw in the towel. To do as Othello did, and just end the madness. But I'm not like Othello. I won't take the easy way out. Maybe that's what Lucas was trying to make me realize. Maybe Iago is supposed to stand for fate instead. For all of the shitty things that have been thrown my way. Hmm…It looks as though I've pretty much got my essay finished.


	10. Jake Being Jake?

A/N: Another day, another chapter…Thank you for all the reviews…You guys are really good at reviewing…and for those of you who don't review…I love you too!

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

Chapter Ten: Jake being Jake?

January 30th 2006

So it's Friday and it's been one of the best days so far. First of all, I got my Geometry test back and I passed with flying colors. Woo! Go me! Then, I spent my free period painting the windows in the south corridor, which was totally amazing. For once the art teachers are letting us paint something other than "Go Ravens!" Finally, I volunteered to read my English paper out loud for the class since I finished ahead of time, and my teacher loved it. He said he never had anyone see Othello as personal motivation. But that's me for you. Being different. When I got back to my seat, I found a note waiting for me saying "See! Shakespeare can apply to you too!" It wasn't signed but I knew who it was from.

I just got home and am planning to settle in upstairs for a second reading of Othello. Unfortunately just as I open the book, someone knocks on the downstairs door. Knowing it's probably Rachel, I yell down to come in. Sure enough, Rachel enters my room not long after.

"Hi buddy," she says sitting down on the edge of my bed. I give her a strange look.

"Buddy?"

"What?" she says innocently, "Can't a girl call her best friend in the whole wide world, buddy?"

"Either you've been drinking or you have a favor to ask me," I say. She smiles mischievously at me.

"You caught me, Peyton. I have a favor to ask."

"What is it?" I ask cautiously.

"Ok, tomorrow night we're hanging out right?"

"We do every night."

"Except last night. Or the night before that," she says.

"When Brooke stopped by, I didn't feel like going out. So I drank at home. Last night I had an important paper to do," I say. Ok so that's a half-truth. The paper wasn't due, but the book was too good to put down even for a trip to TRIC. "And we're going out tonight."

"Beside the point, my favor is that you definitely cannot miss Saturday night."

"Why?"

"Because…I kind of…sort of told Chris Keller that you'd save him a dance."

"What!" I hiss, "How did this happen?"

"Ok, here's the thing," Rachel says putting her hands up to tell me to brace myself. "I needed someone to perform at TRIC Saturday because our act cancelled. So, I figured I'd ask Chris, but the thing is we don't have any money to pay him because we already ran out of booking money. He said he would do it for free as long as he got one dance with goldilocks, who I'm assuming means you."

"Why didn't you just use the money we put aside for Saturday's scheduled gig to pay him?"

"Because they were doing it for free," Rachel says. I begin pacing in front of her. "It's not that bad, is it?"

"Oh my gosh, Rachel! You basically made me into a prostitute!"

"Ok, let's not exaggerate here," Rachel says rolling her eyes, "You don't have to sleep with him. Just one dance."

"I won't do it."

"Then he won't play and we will have to resort to a DJ when we've been advertising all week for Chris Keller." I didn't even notice the advertising…I must be really out of it.

"Why didn't you tell me this until now?"

"Because I was guessing I'd get this reaction," Rachel says standing up, "Listen, I'm going to go hang out with Mouth for a little. I'll be back in a couple hours and hopefully you'll have cooled off." I glare at her as she leaves.

"I hate Chris Keller! You know that right!" I yell as I hear her reach my front door.

"It's just a dance Peyton," she yells back before shutting the door behind her. I groan and turn back to my book, hoping to forget this whole mess. Unfortunately, once again as I try to begin I'm interrupted. This time the phone rings.

"Hello," I say as cheerily as I can.

"You don't have to try that hard Peyton," a very familiar voice answers.

"Jake!" I shout, "How are you?" Jake and I started talking again after the whole wedding fiasco. He called about two weeks ago and I broke down in tears relaying the whole story. He listened to me intently and gave me some advice. Basically he told me to just let things happen on their own schedule. And I did just that. Of course, I haven't told him about my drinking or smoking. I don't want him worrying about me. We've just come to terms with the idea of being friends.

"I'm great," he chuckles at my sudden burst of enthusiasm, "How about you?"

"Oh just peachy," I say sarcastically.

"You sound flustered," Jake chuckles.

"Really?" I mutter, "You can tell."

"Yeah. What happened?"

"Long story."

"Well, Jenny's napping. I have a lot of time on my hands."

"How is Jenny?" I ask.

"Very good, but don't change the subject."

"All right fine," I huff, "Here's the thing. Chris Keller is in town and he said he'd play at TRIC last minute because our band pulled out earlier this week."

"Well, what's the problem, then? It's just a show."

"That's just it. There's more. Because we don't have any money to pay him, he said he'd do the show in exchange for a dance with me."

"And you agreed?" Jake asks in disbelief.

"No! That's the thing! Rachel made the deal behind my back and now I have to dance with him tomorrow!" I hiss.

"Well Peyton," he says, drawing the words out. He's silent for few moments.

"What? Well, Peyton what?" I ask impatiently.

"I think there's nothing wrong with one dance with Chris Keller."

"It's Chris Keller! The man who almost broke up Haley and Nathan's marriage! The guy who slept with Brooke!"

"Right, well it's just a dance."

"With Chris Keller! Why doesn't anyone else see this my way? I do not want to dance with that jerk. He's a sleazy, no good tool." I basically shout.

"Well, why does he want to dance with you then? If he's such a jerk and all."

"I don't know. He probably wants to be able to say he felt up all the cheerleaders at Tree Hill High."

"Maybe he's into you," Jake suggests. I roll my eyes at the suggestion.

"Just like he was into Haley and Brooke and God knows who else!"

"But he didn't pursue those girls. I mean Haley asked him for help with his music. And Brooke picked him for that draft thing you guys had."

"Yeah, but he kissed Haley and he seduced Brooke."

"But they started it. He just finished it."

"Sounds like something he would say," I mutter. I hear him sigh on the other line.

"Peyton, don't you believe in second chances?" I pause and bite my lip. That was one of my rules, wasn't it? Give second chances. Damn, stupid list!

"Yeah," I admit.

"So maybe he deserves a second chance."

"Listen Jake, even if he did deserve one, it's the last thing I need. Another suitor."

"Another?" Jake asks, clearly amused.

"Since the wedding, I've had at least four guys ask me out."

"And?"

"And I turned them down of course. I don't have time for a boyfriend."

"Or maybe you're not over Lucas," he says quietly. Oh, he's good at this. He must be picking up tips from Lucas or something. I stay silent for a while, mulling over my options. Confirm or deny.

"I'm not." Honesty is supposedly the best policy, right?

"Then all the more reason to dance with Chris Keller."

"Enlighten me on this."

"Peyton, I know you're just fine pining over Lucas, but maybe if you try to move on it will make it easier. I mean you have to face the facts. Lucas is in love with Brooke."

"I know that," I say quietly.

"So then have some fun," Jake says, "I mean from the stories you've told me Chris Keller can be a real ass, but he can also be a funny guy."

"Sometimes," I painfully admit.

"So what's wrong with one dance with the guy?"

"What if he annoys the hell out of me?"

"Stop dancing." I laugh at the simplicity of the whole thing.

"I guess you're right," I say, "I'm just being silly."

"No, you're just afraid," he says honestly, "That and you really don't like Chris Keller."

"You're right on both accounts. But as you said, everyone deserves a second chance."

"Right. So go have fun with Chris Keller," he says.

"One dance. That's all he gets," I say begrudgingly. He laughs heartily on the other side of the phone. I hear crying in the background.

"Looks like Jenny's up," he says, "I got to go."

"Ok, thanks Jake."

"No problem, beautiful," he says. We hang up and I open my book. I take a deep breath and begin reading again. This time no one interrupts me.

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Before you all start lighting torches and carrying pitchforks…I promise this is a Leyton fic not a Chris/Peyton fic…There's a reason for Chris Keller's appearance (besides my huge crush on Tyler Hilton).


	11. A Dance With Chris Keller

A/N: You guys are awesome…I think I say that every time I post a chapter but I do mean it. I love the fact that you guys are consistent with the reviewing. And for those of you who don't review, it's ok...I'm one of you. lol.

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

Chapter Eleven: A Dance with Chris Keller

January 31st 2006

I love Saturdays. Did I tell you that? All days of the week are cool, but Saturdays just give me hope. Because another school week is over. And I keep telling myself things can't get worse. Although, that being said, I'm sure they could. I mean my dad could die. He is the only living parent that I know about. Umm, what else? I could have my hands chopped off in a freak accident making it impossible for me to ever draw again. I could go deaf and there goes music. Although, I don't really have much of a passion for music anymore, so I don't know how bad that would be. If I lost my dad or my hands, I'd probably fall apart. I can't imagine life without either of those things… But what the hell am I doing pondering over such depressing things? I'm in a happy mood! It's a Saturday!

My morning was really uneventful. I did some homework, drew some pictures and had a little chat with Haley over the phone. That and ate cereal. Rachel came over two hours after going home to pick up some clothes, and Bevin really never left. That was another part of my morning. Sobering up Bevin for tonight just to watch her get drunk again. I wish she could hold her alcohol like I can now.

My afternoon was no better. It consisted of me watching Rachel and Bevin try on numerous outfits and telling them which ones make their asses look smallest. Guess what…they all look the same. But I pretended otherwise. Then after I took a shower, they tossed a pile of clothes for me to try on and started doing my hair and make-up. Seriously, I thought Brooke was bad, but Bevin's definitely taken the cake for most dangerous woman with a flat iron and mascara. I don't understand why they want me to dress-up. Damn, it's just Chris Keller! I'm not even into him. Sure, he's good looking and musically gifted, but I can think of a hundred bad qualities that counteract those.

Whatever. I'm just doing this to appease the girls. That and Lucas and Brooke might be there. And I kind of want to see the look on their faces when I walk in wearing the ensemble Rachel and Bevin have picked out. It's a super short black miniskirt paired with an emerald green tank top. The shirt's low cut, but not dangerously low like something Brooke would wear. I've got my chunky boots to top it off. I haven't looked this good since the wedding.

"Peyton," Rachel says peaking into my room, "You ready?" I take one more look back in the mirror and sigh. This is it.

We arrive at the club late. Well, Rachel and I arrive at the club late. We had to send Bevin ahead to introduce Chris. See, Rachel gets a call as we're halfway out the door from Mouth. His car broke down and he wasn't going to be able to make it. Then, Rachel gets all emotional because he won't be there. Seriously, so not like her to cry over something like that. So, I said she and I would go pick up Mouth and bring him with us. I was rewarded with a bone crushing hug and a sickening car ride where I had to watch Mouth and Rachel act all coupley. No offense, but I don't want/need that stuff. I'm depressed enough as it is.

So, yeah anyways, I walk inside just behind Mouth and Rachel who are holding hands. We settle at the bar where Bevin is already waiting (and surely on her third drink). Chris is onstage performing "Meant Something to Me."

"So, how'd it go?" I ask sliding onto the stool next to Bevin.

"Eh," she shrugs, "He asked when his payment would be arriving." I glare at Rachel who just shakes her head, trying to hide her amusement.

"Whatever," I mutter.

"You say that a lot, you know that?" Bevin muses. I think it a lot too, Bevin. I don't say that back though. My eyes are busy scanning the room for my former clique. And I'm hardly shocked to find them sitting in their usual booth. They haven't spotted me yet, at least I don't think. I find it kind of odd that they're all wearing shades of blue. Did they do that on purpose?

Chris finishes his song and looks over to the bar. I'm sipping my drink casually, hoping he won't spot me. He does though and smirks, before adjusting his microphone while the cheers subside.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he says, "I'd like to dedicate this next song to the pretty blonde at the bar." He winks at me and I can't help but roll my eyes at him. He plays "Glad" for me. Two song dedications two weekends in a row. I must be pretty special. _You're one special girl, Peyton. You're my little angel. Don't ever forget that._ The words just pop into my head only the voice speaking them is not my own. It's my mother's. Those are the words she told me on my eighth birthday. I had long since forgotten them, but that thought must have triggered something in the back of my mind. I smile slightly at her words. I am special. Sure, moms are supposed to say that, but I have to believe it. Only a special girl would get such a wonderful woman for a mom. I miss her. Every freaking day of my life. And it just doesn't get better.

I don't have much time to think about her though. I notice Chris has just finished his last song. He's making his way towards us as the DJ takes his place to finish off the night. I order another drink hoping to buy me some time. At this point, I notice that Bevin and Rachel have seemingly abandoned me. I must fend for my own against Chris Keller.

"Goldilocks," he says sitting down next to me and ordering a drink.

"Keller," I mutter.

"I'm awaiting payment," he says, smirking.

"Is there a reason you to want to dance with me?" I ask, my fist just itching to smack that smirk off his face.

"That's for me to know and you to find out, Peyton."

"So you do know my name?"

"How could I forget such a beautiful girl's name?"

"Smooth. Real smooth," I say, before I down my shot, "All right Keller let's get this over with."

"Don't I just feel loved?" he says sarcastically, offering me a hand, "Let's go blondie." Just as I go to take it, I see the clique watching my every move, most looking at me as if I'm crazy. I smirk a little at the reaction before sliding my hand in his and letting him lead me to the dance floor. The song playing is an old tune. I think it's "With or Without You" by U2. I put my arms around his neck and he tentatively places his hands on my waste. I laugh at his hesitation.

"I'm not going to bite," I chuckle.

"Well, you sure seemed like it just a second ago," he says, his hands relaxing on my waste. I feel myself become a little more comfortable with him. This is nice. Not Lucas or Jake nice, but nice nonetheless.

"I'm an aloof person, Chris."

"This is getting better though. You called me Chris. I'd almost say we're getting somewhere." This can be painful or this could be pleasant. It's all up to me and how I handle it.

"Well, Chris, why don't you tell me something about yourself?"

"You want to know about me?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't be so shocked. It's a long song and we got nothing else to do."

"We could make out," he says raising his eyebrow suggestively. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, I give him a push on the shoulder. He stumbles back as we both laugh a little, "I was kidding."

"Well, try again."

"Ok, fine," he says, exaggerating his disappointment, "I was born two blocks from here, the last baby born in the old hospital."

"You're kidding me? The one that used be where the fire station is?"

"Yep. My mom got there at eleven and they stopped letting patients in at twelve. The next day all new patients were sent into the new building. My mom was so bored because the TVs were already unhooked she started singing to me. She says that's how I got my love of music." I can't help but feel shocked that he opened up to me like that. I mean I know that's not something really deep, but still, this is Chris Keller we're talking about. Anything not coated in charm and wit should be considered a breakthrough.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I was born on March 15th. That means I'm a Pisces."

"Beware of the Ides of March," I say playfully.

"Funny," he says, "What about you Peyton Sawyer? What are you like?"

"I'm a Cancer," I say softly, "And I like to draw and paint. I used to enjoy music, but I don't know. That's kind of gone."

"I lost music for awhile too. It seems when you just don't give a damn, music stops mattering." He took the words out of my mouth. I can only nod mutely and rest my head on his shoulder. I can tell when he pulls me closer, it's a friendly gesture. Nothing more.

"Since we're sharing, why did you ask for a dance?" I ask.

"Because you're a gorgeous, feisty blonde," he supplies, but I can tell he's hiding something so I frown. "You're not buying it, are you?"

"Seriously, Chris. There's always a reason. Just be honest with me."

"I was thinking about all those terrible things I did when I first me you. I mean you were just trying to get this place going and I screwed around with you. I feel bad now. So really, I'm just trying to square my karma," he says smirking at me. I think back to the time when I uttered those exact words to Lucas and I can't help but smile back at him. "I was a real ass, huh?"

"Yeah you were," I sigh.

"So think of this as a way to make it up to you even if I did have to bribe you to accomplish it."

"Apology accepted," I say. I listen to the music and notice the song's changed. Now, it's something I've never heard, but still a slow song nonetheless. I could pull away now, but I just don't have the energy. I'm drained.

"Hey, why aren't you hanging out with the breakfast club anymore?" he asks suddenly. I look at him oddly before it clicks what he means.

"Oh, them!" I say, "Brooke and I kind of had a falling out."

"Was it over Lucas again?" Before I get a chance to ask how he knows about before, he continues, "Haley talked…a lot, especially when we were on the bus. She probably thought I wasn't listening, but I guess I was." There's a slow pause where I don't say anything, "So, was it over Lucas then?"

"It's always over a boy isn't it," I muse.

"Well, I'm sorry kiddo," he says, "If it's any consolation, he's glaring at us right now." My eyes shoot up to meet Chris's.

"What?" I ask.

"I can see them from here. You're little clique that is. They're in the booth about twenty feet behind you."

"Oh," I say. I'm curious, but ashamed to ask him what the look on their faces are.

"Would you like to know what they're reactions are?" I look away and apparently that gives him his answer. "Nathan looks extremely pissed especially when I do this," He shifts his hands just a bit lower on my hips. "Yep, totally pissed." I laugh a little. "Haley looks worried. She's staring at me though. Probably regretting what she left behind on tour-"

"Sure she is," I chuckle.

"Lucas is just glaring my head off, but I can see fear in those eyes too. And dare I say, jealousy?"

"You're just trying to make me feel better," I say softly.

"Whatever you say," he says, "But if he's not jealous then why is his girlfriend looking at him with sad pathetic puppy dog eyes and he hasn't even noticed it." I furrow my eyebrows.

"Maybe he has."

"Believe me Peyton. I've been watching. He hasn't taken his eyes off you this entire time." The song ends before I get a chance to answer him. He pulls away taking my hands in his. "It's been a pleasure, Peyton Sawyer." He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses it. As he turns to leave, something propels me to grab his arm and turn him back.

"Chris!" I say. He looks at me slightly confused. I reach up and plant a small kiss on his cheek. "Thanks for the dance."

"If you just did that to make Lucas more jealous, you've succeeded," he whispers.

"No," I say shaking my head, "I did that to say I'm sorry for slapping you in the face. Making Lucas jealous was just a bonus."

"You're forgiven," he chuckles.

"Friends?" I ask extending a hand.

"Sure, but friends don't shake hands. Friends hug," he says pulling me into a giant bear hug and lifting me off the ground as I shriek.

"Put me down, Keller!"

"Buy me a drink."

"Fine!" I say as he drops me down at the bar. Looks like I've made a new friend. And of all people, it's Chris freaking Keller. How ironic.

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See! I told you the pitchforks and torches weren't necessary...yet...I promise you this won't be the last of Chris Keller. But I also promise you a little more Leyton interaction. Next chapter for sure...but remember their relationship will take awhile to build.


	12. A Seashell Frame for Anna

A/N: Hey loyal readers! I'd like to start by saying this chapter was extremely hard for me to write. It was really emotional. So, if you could please review this chapter even if you don't usually review that'd be nice. Other than that, nothing much to say here. There is a little Leyton interaction in this chapter at the end, so I hope you enjoy it. Oh and thank you for all the reviews!

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

Chapter Twelve: A Seashell Frame for Anna

February 1st 2006

_So what would you think of me now, so lucky, so strong, so proud? I never said thank you for that, now I'll never have a chance. -_ Jimmy Eat World

So guess what waking me up right now at eight o'clock this morning? The phone! I ignored it the first time. And the second time. And the third time. Then, I tried hanging up the fourth and fifth time. I'm thinking I should answer it though because it might be an emergency.

"Hello," I mutter.

"What's wrong with you!" Nathan yells.

"Good morning, Nate," I say sarcastically.

"I can handle you brooding. I can handle you drinking. Hell, I can even tolerate you smoking! But I cannot handle you dating Chris Keller!"

"Whoa! Calm down there, chief! I'm not dating Chris Keller." I roll over on my side to check the clock again. Still eight.

"I'm not naïve, Peyton. I saw it with my own eyes."

"Right. You saw me dancing with Chris Keller."

"And kissing him-"

"On the cheek, Nathan," I say rolling my eyes, "I kiss you on the cheek too."

"You're point?" Nathan whispers. What the hell does he think I mean?

"I'm just friends with Chris, ok? Nothing more than that. I owed him a dance as payment for performing at TRIC."

"What are you? Some type of prostitute?" Nathan asks. I burst out laughing, especially when I hear Haley in the background scolding him for saying that.

"I didn't make the arrangements. Rachel did."

"So Rachel's your pimp," Nathan says. I hear a sharp smack from his side, "Jesus, Hales! You should hear what she's saying."

"Listen, Nathan. If I wanted to date Chris Keller, I'd date Chris Keller," I say causing Nathan to scoff, "But, I'd also tell you."

"Promise?" he sounds so much like a little kid when he says it.

"Yes, I promise," I say rolling my eyes, "Should I be expecting one of these calls from Lucas too?" I hear Nathan sigh on the other line.

"I'm calling for him too."

"Oh good," I sigh in relief. I can handle Nathan, but Lucas is a different story. It's just weird to talk about that stuff with him.

"Not really."

"Why? What happened?" I ask.

"Brooke broke up with him and now he's all depressed. Haley's going over there now to cheer him up." My mouth literally drops at the news.

"What the hell!"

"I know."

"Why'd she do it?"

"I don't know. When we went to the club, they seemed really happy. By the end of the night, Lucas wasn't talking to any of us and Brooke was almost in tears. Brooke called Haley three hours after we got home to tell us the news. Haley says it was trust issues."

"Shocker," I mutter sarcastically, "I wonder how long before they're back together."

"I don't know. According to Haley, Brooke seems pretty adamant that the relationship is over."

"Huh," I breathe.

"Maybe you should go see Lucas," Nathan suggests quietly.

"Probably not the best time for him to get a visit from his ex-girlfriend."

"You're still his friend first though, right?"

"We'll see Nate," I say, knowing I won't go over there.

"Ok, I'll let you get back to bed," he says.

"Thanks for being so considerate," I say sarcastically.

"Next time answer your phone the first time."

"Next time call three hours later." We hang up a little later and I roll on my back trying to fall asleep, but it proves difficult. The fact that Lucas and Brooke broke up is swirling in my mind. A smile graces my face as I drift off. Lucas Scott is single again.

I wake up three hours later. And surprisingly when I awake, there are no thoughts of Brooke or Lucas in my head. I'm thinking about a little project I need to finish. See, it's Sunday, so naturally I'm thinking about my mother. Only this Sunday it's a little bit more than usual. A lot of times, my mind is somewhere else on Sunday. I'm usually worrying about the upcoming week and I have little time to think about my mom and that bucket in my closet. What bucket, you ask? Let me explain.

I remember when I was about six years old, every Sunday my mom would take me to the beach. She did it because my dad was away at sea and it made her feel closer to him. I remember her saying that, but she never frowned at the thought. She always smiled. In fact, I hardly ever remember my mother frowning. We'd walk along the shore searching for interesting and odd seashells. I'd scoop up at least fifty per trip in my little bright pink plastic bucket. (Yes, oddly enough it was bright pink.) When we got home, she'd take the big shells, wash them off and put them in this huge glass bowl on our coffee table. The small ones she'd glue on to frames for the family room.

When I got older, we didn't have time to go to the beach. Mom was busy with booster clubs and fundraisers. She was always organizing something. I asked her to take me two weeks before she died, and she was able to fit it into her schedule. We picked out the shells together and she promised that she'd make me a special frame with a picture of just the two of us in it. She said she'd put it right in the middle of our fireplace mantel.

She never made that frame. When she got home, some lady from school called and she was wrapped up in that. I didn't say anything because she promised she'd do it tomorrow. But each day she pushed it back. I understood though. I had a busy life too, even at my age. Then, she finally found a clear day on her schedule. She would pick me up after school and we'd finish that frame together. I was so excited. She never picked me up. We never made that frame.

I keep the bucket of seashells in my closet, buried behind all of my boxes of old clothes. Every Sunday I debate internally whether I should make that frame. Today, I'm getting my closure. I'm making that frame.

I leisurely get dressed and eat some breakfast. It's late enough to consider my meal lunch, but seeing as I'm eating cereal again, I think breakfast is a more suitable name. When I finish, I trudge back upstairs into my closet and dig out the bucket. The shells are still dirty, so I let them soak in the sink while I go through the photo albums looking for the perfect picture.

I have trouble looking through these albums. I miss her so much and each photo is another stab in my heart. She's gone and even making this frame won't bring her back, but I have to believe it will make it a little better. I wish she was here to make it with me. I finally find the perfect photo. It's of me and her on the beach ironically enough. It's from my birthday. My mom and dad took me to the beach and we built sandcastles. Dad must have taken this picture. My mom is sitting Indian style next to me as I build a sandcastle (more like a sand mound). She's trying to square the bottom of the castle, but I remember clearly it would be to no avail. I was intent of having a round castle.

I take the photo out of the plastic sheet and bring it to the kitchen table. The shells are clean now and I let them dry while I search for the frame we were going to use. I think my dad kept it in the spare closet upstairs. There are a lot of things in there. Towels, junk jewelry, and I think I saw a beach umbrella in there. Sure enough there's the frame on the top shelf next to my box of Troll dolls.

The process is not a long one. The hardest part is arranging the shells, just perfectly so you can fit as many as possible on there. My mom always stressed that. She packed the frames so tight that you couldn't see any of the frame. I do a go job placing the shells, of course it's not as good as hers, but I think she'd be proud. Now, I just need to glue them on. The process is messy. Hot glue guns always annoy the hell out of me, but they're necessary for this project. When some of the glue drips on my index finger, I can suddenly picture my mother's finger tips, callous from crafts, covered in dry glue. I can see the look on her face when she notices the glue. She'd scrunch her nose and I'd know to run to the sink and get her a wet paper towel. It seems like such a long time ago.

I watch as the frame dries while I clean up my little mess. The remaining shells I dump into that bowl in the living room. When I finish, I slide the picture into the frame. It looks perfect. Now, there's only one more thing to do. Go see mom.

The cemetery is pretty empty for a Sunday. Usually, this is when most people come. I guess it's my lucky day. I sit down by my mom's gravestone and dust some off the dirt off the base. I have my frame in my shaking hands. This isn't something unusual for me so I don't know why I'm so nervous. I visit her a lot of times. It never gets easier, but it's also never this nerve racking.

"Hi mom," I whisper, "Look what I brought. Our last seashell frame. I made it this morning. I'm going to put it on the fireplace mantel just like you said. Right in the center." I pause to gather myself. I feel like I'm the verge of breaking down.

"It's been awhile since I came to see you. I think the last time I came was right after Ellie died. Life's not been good since then. I thought things would look up, but so far that's not been proving true." The first tear falls down onto our frame and I wipe it off.

"Umm, there was a school shooting. I'm sure you knew that. I got shot in the knee. Mom, you don't know how scary it was seeing that gun pointed at me. Hearing the glass shatter. I was so scared. I didn't know what to do. I climbed all the way up to the library. I thought I was going to die there. I was too tired to move, too weak to scream for help. I just laid back against the shelves and waited for my chance to see you again." Tears roll down my cheek and I thank God that no one's here to see me. Because I need to let this all out, but I don't want anyone to witness it. I'm really crying now.

"But you had other plans, didn't you?" I let out a small laugh through my tears, "You sent Lucas back in there to save me. I know you did. It just wasn't my time." I choke a little on my sobs. Because it's so hard to continue. So hard to speak these words out loud.

"But I wanted to die, mom," I cry, "I didn't want to go on! I wanted to come see you! I didn't want to feel the pain anymore!" I'm trying to yell the words but they're being stifled by my tears. My voice can't reach louder than normal. "I hate it! I hate this life! And even after the shooting, it got worse! There's no relief! It only gets worse! More pain! More losses!"

"I miss you! I miss you so much! You were the only one I could count on. You were the only one I trusted and now you're gone. And it sucks." I curl up into a little ball, tucking my knees under my chin, "I know I have to be strong," I say softly, "I know I have to keep going, but I just don't want to. Maybe you can pull some strings and get me something good to look forward to. Or just send me a sign. Where should I be?" I collapse into a pitiful pile of tears. My eyes are closed. I'm just trying to soak it all in. The sound of the wind. The feel of the grass under my feet. (My shoes are resting next to me.) This is what it felt like to break down. And I don't want to ever forget this moment. As much as it hurts, I can feel myself getting stronger from it. Growing as a person. Accepting finally that Anna Sawyer is dead and no amount of tears and seashell frames will bring her back.

"Where should I be?" I whisper, opening my eyes. My eyes are blurry but I spot another figure a couple of rows to my right. I wipe furiously at my eyes trying to build back up the tough walls. The figure is approaching me, probably to see if I'm all right. I still can't tell who it is. New tears are replacing my old ones.

"It's ok," the figure tells me. His voice is familiar and it makes me feel even worse for breaking down like this. "I just noticed it was you."

"Luke," I say, trying to get up and leave. He places his hand on my shoulder keeping me from rising.

"Don't leave," he says sitting down next to me, "I just finished crying." I look at him and notice his eyes are red and puffy. Those eyes are pleading me to stay, but I don't think I would have left even if they weren't. I'm too weak, too tired to move.

"Ok," I nod. He takes a deep breath and smiles weakly at me.

"I didn't plan on coming here," he says softly, "I've had a really shitty week and usually when that happened, I'd talk to Keith. So I just wound up here. And then before I knew it, I was crying."

"This place does that," I say, still sniffling.

"Does it ever get easier?" he asks. I'd love to say yes. To lie for the sake of making him feel better, but for me, it's all the same.

"No," I say softly, wringing my hands to stop them from shaking "But that may just be me." He abruptly pulls me into his arms and I wrap my arms around his waist. This is where I want to be. But is it where he wants to be? I highly doubt it.

We sit there for a good half hour, just embracing each other. We don't talk about Brooke or Chris or Haley or Nathan. We don't talk at all, but when we go our separate ways, we both feel a little better. It's always that way when I leave him. Lucas Scott. My guardian angel.


	13. Manic Monday

A/N: Hey peeps! Not much to say today, but I hope you like this chapter! It sets the wheels in motion for Leyton…;)

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

Chapter Thirteen: Manic Monday

February 2nd 2006

_It's just another manic Monday. I wish it was Sunday_.-The Bangles

It's strange to wake up happy after you spent all yesterday crying. After I left the cemetery yesterday, I went out drinking, (surprise, surprise…) with Rachel and the girls. We didn't stay late. Only a couple hours. However, in that time, I drank as much as I would in an entire night. I did it to numb myself, but my tears still fell anyways. I shouldn't have woken up happy.

But, that's what happened to me today. I woke up smiling. I felt this bubble of anticipation in my chest. I want to be sad. I really do, because all this shit keeps on piling up, but I think my mom is not letting that happen. Because every time I feel like frowning, I look outside and see something amazing. Like the sun hitting our elm tree at just the right angle to make it glow or woman and her little girl taking a stroll. It's just a beautiful day today.

I'm already on my way to school. Listening to music. Well, not listening, more like playing it while I drive. I haven't gotten that passion for it back yet. Now, I just play it for noise. Or maybe because I'm just accustomed to turning on the radio when I get in the car. Either way, I'm not taking any of it in.

I arrive just on time for homeroom, which happens on every Monday. Last week, I ditched. It's not really important and our teacher hardly ever takes attendance. Today I'm actually going to go for the sake of being here early. I stroll into school shoving my books quickly into my locker and walking into the room directly on my left. Yeah, did I mention homeroom is in the classroom right next to mine? Talk about convenient. But I still ditch most of the time. Just because.

"Ms. Sawyer, how nice of you to grace us with your presence?" Ms. Bryson smirks. I give her a big smile.

"Hi, Ms. Bryson. How are you?"

"Just peachy. I trust you remember where your seat is?" she asks. I nod. Of course, I do. Right in between Lucas and Nathan. Ok, so maybe that was the other reason I ditched homeroom.

"Sawyer, you showed," Nathan says as I slide into my seat next to him.

"Yep," I say simply, "What's up?"

"Nothing really." I nod and turn to Lucas who's just sort of staring at the chalkboard in front of us. He's in a different world right now. That's for sure. He's probably missing Brooke. My heart sinks a little before I shake the feeling off.

"Luke," I say softly waving my hand in front of his face. He blinks a few times before focusing on me.

"Peyton? When did you get here?"

"Dude Lucas, what drugs are you on?" Nathan asks, smirking. I glare at him before turning my attention back to Lucas.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I don't know," he shrugs, "I just feel out of it." I don't know what to say to that so I just pat his hand and turn back to my desk, grabbing a notebook out of my backpack. I'm not good with words, but I am good with drawing. So, I draw a big walking smiley face with extended arms. Above it is a little word bubble that says, "Don't worry. Be happy!" I put my name in the bottom corner. I fold the paper in half and write LUCAS in all capitals.

"Here you go," I say handing him the paper. He looks at me skeptically before opening it up. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

"You're in a cheery mood," he says folding the paper back up.

"Yeah, I am," I say, "It's just one of those good days." The bell rings just then and I give him a smile as I start to pack up. I watch as he leaves. He tucks the piece of paper I gave him in his back pocket and walks out with a smile on his face. And that just makes me smile more.

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Today was great! I actually listened in class. I did my work. I paid attention to what Bevin and Rachel said at lunch. Can I just say something? I want to know when Bevin got so smart. That may sound like a terrible thing to say about someone who's been there for me these last few weeks, but seriously, she's lost that naivety that plagued her through most of high school so far. She's much more grounded and realistic. It's kind of cool and yet…I'm sad about it too. It's a loss of innocence. But life makes you grow up and loosing someone you love helps that. She and Skillz still haven't talked and it's not looking good.

As for Rachel, she's acting weirder and weirder as the days go by. She's moody and emotional. The Rachel Gattina I knew wouldn't cry at Hallmark commercials and get all shy at the mention of her relationships. She also just breaks down and cries at the drop of a pin. And none of us besides Mouth can get her to tell us why? Then again, the Rachel I knew wasn't dating Mouth, so maybe he's been a positive influence. Or maybe loosing someone she loved in Cooper has finally caught up with her. Once again, loosing love makes you change. We all changed.

So, Rachel goes soft, Bevin gets smart and I…get bitter? Maybe that's it. But I'm not bitter right now. I have tomorrow to be bitter. Good days are so rare for me that I'm just soaking this all in. Enjoying it.

It looks like I'm the last one out of school today. I had to get tutored because I've been blowing off my history homework. Haley, who has a full schedule, found a great tutor for me. His name is Josh. We had our first meeting today and I can tell I'm going to be back on track in no time. This guy knows how to explain things to someone like me.

I walk outside, having finally grabbed all my books from my locker. I brush a loose strand of hair out of my face. The parking lot is empty except for a few spread out cars including mine which is to my left. However, something right in front of me stops me from going any further. Of all the people I had to run into in a deserted parking lot, it had to be her. And it seems she has no intent of letting me ignore her.

"Brooke," I say curtly, nodding my head.

"Whore," she says in the same tone I used.

"That was a little uncalled for, don't you think?" I ask, rolling my eyes. I'm not going to let her ruin one of the few good days I get.

"Uncalled for? Uncalled for is cheating with your best friend's boyfriend! Calling the person who did that a whore is hardly unjustifiable!"

"You're right," I say simply, "You can call me whatever you want, but what happened between Lucas and I is the past. You should be worrying about patching up your relationship not sitting here insulting me."

"Lucas and I are over for good."

"Good for you," I say, entirely uninterested…ok, that's a lie. I'm somewhat elated to know that. But my voice does a good job of hiding my joy. I make a move to turn and leave when she speaks again.

"I saw you with Chris Friday. It looks like you've moved on already."

"Right," I say rolling my eyes again.

"You always did like my leftovers."

"Chris and I just danced and I gave him a small peck on the cheek. That's all."

"You were probably drunk again. How the hell do you know? You probably don't even remember what or who you did last night." She's hit a nerve and I can't help but strike back this time.

"Unlike you Brooke, I don't need to use drinking to excuse the fact that I make morally questionable decisions," I say venomously.

"What is that supposed to mean, St. Peyton?" Brooke hisses.

"Hell, I get drunk and sleep in the same damn bed as the man I love, your boyfriend and don't even make a move on him. You get drunk with someone you can't stand and wind up in bed with him."

"Those are two entirely different situations! You can't blame me for what I did when I was drunk. Some of us can't control ourselves when we're intoxicated." I laugh bitterly at her.

"As far as I'm concerned Brooke, your actions in general have proven you're no better than me. You're a terrible friend, a terrible girlfriend and above all, a terrible human being and you'll never change. Because as long as there's someone to blame, you'll never take responsibilities for your actions. Chris seduced you! I caused all the problems between you and Lucas!"

"You did!" she yells, "You never wanted us together!"

"Yeah, I had some issues with it. You want to know why, Brooke?"

"Go ahead," she hisses.

"He deserves better than you and he always has."

"I guess you think he should be with you, right?" she says rolling her eyes.

"I just want him to be happy, and I know all you did was break his heart over and over again because of your insecurities."

"Kind of like you did?" she says. I narrow my eyes at her.

"Whatever," I mutter. I turn around to stomp off and find Lucas watching the entire scene. I could care less though as I trudge past him to my car. At this point, I'm just really pissed off. It isn't until I'm halfway home that I realize what he heard. I said he was the man I loved. I bitched out the girl he's in love with. Basically, I acted like a fool. I can only hope that he didn't pick up on it. But I know better…So much for having a good day.


	14. Between a Rock and a Hard Place

A/N: Hello loyal readers! So what's the fallout from Peyton's little rant? Read and find out!

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

Chapter Fourteen: Between a Rock and a Hard Place

February 3rd 2006

One day I'm on top of the word. The next day I'm buried under the covers of my bed, eating bite size Hershey bars. I haven't moved since Rachel dragged me in here early this morning. We stayed out really late last night. I didn't drink. Not a single drop. I nursed a Dr. Pepper the entire night. Instead of downing shots, I sat there and observed. I watched people interact. I watched them get drunk and try and flirt with people as equally drunk as them. I finally figured out what Rachel does while we all drink. She goes backstage checking up on the performers. She asks the bartenders how our supply is. She adjusts the lighting and talks to the patrons. There was a time when I would do that.

I was so exhausted by the time I got to the car that I fell asleep on the way home. Rachel basically had to carry me inside with Bevin's help. She also called me in sick in the morning. When I woke up, I told her I wasn't going to school. Not after yesterday. I couldn't face Lucas. I didn't want to see Brooke. I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Now, it's about two o'clock and I'm still too depressed to get out of bed. I found this bag of Hershey bars under my bed. I think it's from Halloween, but hell that's only like three months old so what the hell? They still taste fine. Now, I hear a vibrating noise coming from my nightstand. I groan and reach for my cell phone, not bothering to check who it is.

"Hello?" I mumble.

"Peyton, it's me." This is the last person I want to hear from right now.

"What can I do for you?" I say coolly, though it's sort of slurred from my groggy, sleep-deprived voice.

"I'm outside your house. Can I come in?" he asks.

"I'm not dressed," I say quickly. I'm still wearing my extremely embarrassing fluffy bunny pajamas. Yes! I, Peyton Sawyer, sleep in fluffy bunny pajamas! Don't mock them until you try them. They're quite soft and the bunnies are really cute.

"I'll wait downstairs until you're ready," he says.

"Luke, now's not a good time. Can't you just-"

"Peyton, we need to talk," he says quietly. I close my eyes at hearing those dreaded words.

"Fine," I sigh, "Wait in the living room until I'm ready. I'll call you up."

"Thanks." I roll out of bed and make my way to my dresser, pulling the necessary articles of clothing out. I hear the door open and close downstairs as I duck into the bathroom with my stuff. It takes me about ten minutes to get dressed and cleaned up. I head back to my room and tidy up a little bit.

"Come on up," I yell downstairs. I sit down on my computer chair, wringing my hands nervously. I really don't want to have this conversation. Lucas knocks at my door before sliding into the room. His hands are shoved in his pockets.

"Hey," he says, smiling weakly.

"Hi," I say shyly, pulling the cuffs of my sweatshirt down over my knuckles. He sits down on the corner of my bed, picking up my bag of Hershey bars. Damn it! I forgot to put those away. I blush a little. "Breakfast," I admit.

"Can I have one?" he asks. I nod as he unwraps one.

"They're from Halloween." He stops what he's doing for a moment before he shrugs and pops one in his mouth.

"Why are you eating Hershey bars for breakfast?" he asks quietly.

"I didn't feel like making anything."

"You didn't go to school today."

"I didn't feel like going," I say just as blandly as my previous statement, "But I'm guessing neither did you." Have you ever been in a conversation with someone where you both know why you're here but neither of you want to address it? It lingers just below the surface.

"I did go," he says, "But you weren't there so I came to see you." And we've scratched the surface.

"Listen, Luke. I'm sorry-"

"No, Peyton. I came here to talk to you. So, I need you to listen to me this time." I nod my head and he takes a deep breath before continuing, "I think you know that I was there when Brooke and you were fighting. I didn't hear all of what you said, but I did hear most of it. You said I was the man you loved. And I need to know, Peyton, is that true?" My mouth drops open like a gaping fish. I try to pull my jaw off the floor, but I'm in too much shock to do anything but continue gaping. I didn't expect him to be this blunt. He makes his way over from the bed and kneels in front of my chair.

"I…uh…" I'm stuttering like a fool. My hands cover my mouth and I look him in the eyes. They're unreadable at this point, giving me no clue which response he'd like to hear more. I should have learned my lesson by now. Denying my feelings won't help this, but I just can't help but fear rejection. Yet again. I look down trying to decide what to do.

"Peyton, do you love me?" he asks me directly. I take a deep breath.

"Yes, Lucas, I love you," I say shakily, meeting his eyes.

"Oh, Peyton," he says, disappointment barely hidden in his voice, "This isn't good." All that love I feel for him turns into anger at that moment. I'm tired of this crap. Tired of Lucas crushing me every time. I'm tired of getting hurt.

"I should have just lied," I say bitterly, "Get the hell out of here, Lucas! Forget I ever said anything."

"No! Peyton," he says grabbing my arm as I try to move off my chair, "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean Lucas?"

"It's just…It makes things even more complicated," he whispers. I roll my eyes.

"I'm sorry your life's so complicated," I say sarcastically.

"You know what I mean."

"No, Luke, I really don't," I hiss, "Why don't you explain it to me?"

"Peyton, I love you, ok? And I love Brooke," he says softly, "I just don't know where I'm at."

"We've had this conversation before," I whisper, "You love me, but you're in love with Brooke."

"But that might not be the case anymore," he trails off.

"What do you mean?"

"What if I told you that I can't stop thinking about you? No matter what I do. It's like you're trapped in my brain. It scares me, Peyton, because I'm supposed to be in love with Brooke, but there I am thinking about you ninety percent of the time."

"Well what am I supposed to say to that?" I ask heatedly, "I'm sorry I ruined your relationship with Brooke? Because I am sorry, Lucas, but I can't help the way I feel, ok? It just happened!"

"You're not listening to me, Peyton! Before I even knew you loved me, I was thinking about you more than I should have."

"So what are you going to do about it?" I say offhandedly. I'm really dying to know. Because from the sounds of it, Lucas is stuck between a rock and hard place.

"I'm done with Brooke. That's for sure," he says, "But I don't know what I'm feeling in regards to you. Can you just give me some time to figure this out?"

"Whatever you need," I whisper, "Just don't screw around with my heart. If you don't love me, don't say you do just to make me happy." He nods and we sit in silence for a while. I'm just reveling in the fact that I just might have a chance. All hope is not lost.

"I should go," he says finally.

"Ok," I say giving him a small hug. He makes his way to the door, looking back at me before he leaves.

"Did you mean what you said?"

"Did I mean what?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows. I've said a lot of things recently.

"You just want me to be happy," he says quietly.

"Yeah," I say, smiling shyly, "It's all I've ever wanted for you."

"I feel the same way about you." He looks at me one more time before going. I love him, no denying that, but I never expected there'd be a chance he felt the same way. Now, all I can do is wait. Unfortunately, I'm one impatient girl…

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Next chapter: A little more fun with Chris Keller…


	15. No School Tomorrow? Let's Get Drunk!

A/N: Ok, I'm really nervous about this chapter. Once you read it...you'll understand why. Make sure you read the author's note at the end...

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill

Chapter Fifteen: No School Tomorrow? Let's Get Drunk!

February 4th 2006

Ok, so here's the thing. I went to school today even though I really didn't want to. Rachel said it would be good for me, and I listened because she's Rachel and lately she's been right. And in a way, I know she is this time because I can't fall behind again. Plus, I've got a fresh sense of hope. Brooke ignored me the whole day, which is really like most days. Only this time, she didn't even bother to scowl. She didn't look at me at all. And to that I say, good riddance.

Now, Rachel, Bevin and I are sitting in my room planning our next great adventure, a road trip after school lets out. It was my idea actually. This whole idea of carpe diem just kind of popped into my head. Bevin is totally on board, but Rachel is still a little hesitant. I told her she can bring Mouth which is probably a good idea in the long run, right? Mouth's the most responsible eighteen year old I know. And with us, three, in the car, we're going to need someone to keep us in line. I can't imagine Rachel staying this goody-goody for much longer.

"Ok, so we head to New York first," I say, opening up the map I've outlined with our plans, "Then, cut west, making sure to stop in Philadelphia and Chicago. We don't stop until we hit the west coast and on our way back we head south so we can catch some of Texas. What do you think?"

"I absolutely love it," Bevin says tracing our route with her finger, "How long will this take us?"

"I haven't thought it through yet," I shrug, "What do you think, Rachel?"

"It looks great," she says, biting her lip.

"You don't like it, do you?" I ask, "Did I forget somewhere you wanted to go?"

"I don't know if I'll be going," she says, "I still have to ask my parents." I furrow my eyebrows. Rachel's parents let her do anything she wants. Obviously, something about our trip is bugging her, but I'm not going to push it. If she doesn't want to go, I'm not making her go.

"Ok, well let me know," I say simply. Rachel nods.

"How many people are going?" Bevin asks.

"Well, if Rachel comes with us, then we can take Mouth. If you patch things up with Skillz, then he can come too."

"What about you? If I'm with Skillz and Rachel's with Mouth, who are you going to have?"

"Maybe Lucas will come." I say, smiling softly. I never thought I'd be able to say that after junior year, but now it feels great.

"You're right," Bevin says, "If you and him are together, that would be perfect."

If…Holy shit! That's a good point. What if he doesn't choose me? What if he thinks that his heart is still with Brooke? What am I going to do then? I should have thought of this before, but I was so caught up with the idea that I might finally get to be with him that I didn't even think of the other side. And there is another side. There's always another side. Especially with Lucas.

And if he doesn't choose me, I don't think I'll be able to handle it. I know that sounds terribly dramatic, but I'm being honest. I can't take another Lucas Scott heart break. I barely got through the first one and that took a lot of help from Jake and Brooke. And neither of them is here. Bevin and Rachel are great, but they're not Brooke. God…I think I'm really delusional. I just admitted that I need Brooke.

"Hey Peyton," Rachel says. I shake my head to try and clear the thoughts.

"What?"

"You zoned out. Don't tell me broody Peyton is coming back! I don't think I can handle any more of your bitterness," Rachel says with a smile. I laugh.

"No, I was just think what if-" I never finish that sentence because the phone rings. Rachel answers it because she closest to the phone. I watch her eyes light up as she keeps repeating the same, "Really?" over and over again. She hangs up.

"No school tomorrow or Friday!" she yells.

"Why?"

"There was a bad gas leak and it's going to take them the whole weekend to clear the gas out of the school and repair the system."

"Wow," I say.

"Let's go get wasted!" Bevin says, "Like totally smashed." I look at her oddly.

"We go drinking all of the time."

"No, but this time let's just let loose and have a good time," she says, "No brooding over Lucas and no worrying about whatever you worry about, Rachel!" Rachel frowns at her but I nod my head.

"Yeah, let's do it!"

"Are you kidding me?" Rachel smirks, "Peyton, you can't get wasted. It's like physically impossible."

"No, it's not. I just have to drink the right stuff. And besides, it's not just about the drinks. It's about what we do." Ok, I don't know why I'm saying all this. I don't think I really want to go out anyways. But that's the thing. Bev's right. I can't just sit here pining away for Lucas. I need to do something to make me forget about it.

"Right," Bevin adds, "Letting go of inhibitions and partying with some cute boys. We'll forget all about Skillz and Lucas for now! I'll call the boys!"

"What about Mouth?" Rachel says, "I, unlike you two, actually have a boyfriend who's committed to me."

"And the old Rachel returns," I mutter sarcastically. She hits me with a pillow.

"You know what I mean!" she sighs, "I can't just go out with some random guys!"

"Prude," I mumble jokingly.

"Bitch."

"Slut."

"How can I be a slut and a prude?" Rachel muses. I narrow my eyes.

"Ok, you two," Bevin says breaking it up, "I'm going to go call the boys. Be ready in five." Bevin walks out of the room.

"When did she become leader?" I ask.

"Whatever," Rachel says, "I guess I can go with you guys."

"That's the spirit," I say clapping her on the back, "It's not like we're going to force you to drink or grind with some random guy."

"Yeah, I know," she says, unsurely.

"What's the big deal anyways? You always come with us…"

"I know," she says, "I just have a bad premonition about tonight."

"Really?" I say, frowning. That can't be good.

"Don't worry. It's probably nothing."

"Hey guys!" Bevin says, bursting into my room, "Great news! Chris Keller's coming with us!" Rachel and I exchange glances.

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This is great. No, wait, wait…This is really, really great. I haven't had this much fun since God knows when. Chris is so funny. I mean really funny. Did I mention this is really great? One thing is for sure. I got to get me some of this stuff I'm drinking now for home. What's the label say? Jagermeister. It tastes like shit, but I don't care. Hey, I think Chris just licked my ear. Oh, wait that's Bevin. Dude, she's wasted. When did it get this hot out? February is supposed to be cold. Damn, I need to take off this shirt.

"You might want to keep that on," Rachel whispers in my ear. I tilt my head to the side. Why would I want to do that?

"Who's hand is on my ass?" I ask. That came out really slurred. I think I might be a little sloshed. This is new for me. I thought I'd grown tolerant to this stuff. I guess after all the shots I've taken tonight, that tolerance means nothing.

"That would be mine," Chris says, extremely close to my ear, "Should I move it?" He sounds really, really drunk too.

"Whatever floats your goat," I say waving him off. Rachel's laughing at me now. I wonder why.

"You look hot," he says, his hands crawling up my sides.

"I am hot," I mumble, "Rachel won't let me take off my shirt." I reach for my pack of cigarettes. Wait a second. Why is there only one left?

"You smoked them all," Rachel says, "Even though you promised Lucas you would stop smoking."

"Luuuke!" That name just rolls off my tongue, "Where is Lukey? He's missing all the fun."

"Forget Lukey," Chris says slamming his gin down, "Chris is here."

"Hooray! Margaritas all around!" I cheer falling into his chest. He plants a wet kiss on my neck. This night has been great. So much for Rachel's premonitions…

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**Ok, so hopefully y'all trust me...and you know that this can't be as bad as it seems...and you remember Peyton's little speech to Brooke a couple chapters ago...so having reminded you of all that...Please put down the torches...maybe take a couple deep breaths and leave a nice profanity free review! lol.**


	16. Caught With Your Pants Up?

A/N: Hello loyal readers…Next chapter's out…and I promise a twist. One reviewer already guessed it, but for some of you it may be a surprise. Enjoy and review!

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

Chapter Sixteen: Caught with Your Pants Up

February 5th 2006

Hell. I'm in hell. There's a constant pounding in my head and a sharp pain behind my eyes. Speaking of my eyes, they're glued shut, but I can feel the light gathering around me. What the hell happened last night? I remember going to the bar. I remember drinking, a lot. The last thing I remember is ordering Margaritas. The rest of the night is a total blur. I groan loudly, still refusing to open my eyes and turn on my side flopping my arm over on Rachel.

"Oof," Rachel grunts. Only that doesn't sound like Rachel. Because Rachel doesn't have a deep voice. And Rachel has breasts. This person has a flat chest.

"Rachel?" I mumble, opening my eyes. The sight before me makes my current headache increase ten fold. I close my eyes and rub them a few times, hoping the site will disappear when I open them again. It doesn't. I shake the figure next to me, trying to wake them up and get some answers. He just mutters some incoherent words and rolls over so his arm is encompassing my stomach.

"Keller!" I hiss pushing his arm off.

"What?" he groans, opening his eyes. He looks at me skeptically, "Goldilocks?"

"Chris, what are you doing in my bed?" I ask, dreading the answer.

"Do you even have to ask?" Chris smirks, rolling back on his back.

"We didn't!" I say, widening my eyes.

"I hope not. I have a girlfriend in New York." He shuts his eyes and puts his hands over his face, "Does it feel like a large truck ran over your brain?"

"Yes!" I yell.

"Damn it, woman! Don't do that," he curses, "I just said I have a headache."

"Chris…" I trail off.

"Don't worry, Peyton," he says, "I don't think we did it. I'm pretty sure I still have my pants on." I pull the covers off my body. Sure enough I'm still dressed, except for my shirt.

"Where the hell is my shirt?" Chris eyes my bare stomach.

"You were hot so you pulled it off," he says, his eyes lingering a little too long on my cleavage, "That's the last thing I remember." I scoot to the edge of the bed and swing my legs over the side. Sure enough there's my shirt lying on the floor. I quickly throw it on.

"Hey! I was enjoying the view." I glare at him, before stumbling to the door. I need some coffee. My throat feels like it's slowly closing in on itself. I notice that there's someone passed out in front of my vanity. It's Bevin. Chris has rolled back on his side and it looks like he's going back to bed. I reach the door just as someone approaches from the other side. Lucas.

"Luke?" I ask.

"Hey, you have three people passed out in your living room," he says.

"Not surprising," I say, trying to lead him away. I need to get him out of here now before he notices-

"Is Chris Keller in your bed?" he asks. I look at him blankly. Not exactly something I can deny.

"Yeah," I sigh, "Listen Luke-"

"Hi, Lucas. How are you?" Chris mutters, "Peyton, sweetie, get back to bed. I'm cold and I need you to warm me up."

"It's ok, Peyton," he says sadly. His eyes look so painful, "I'm used to this. It seems like every Tree Hill girl winds up in his bed."

"Actually I wound up in hers," Chris says, "And I wound up in Brooke's too."

"Chris, shut up!" I say rolling my eyes, "Luke, I didn't sleep with him. I wouldn't do that."

"It's really ok, Peyt," he says. His face tells a different story. I begin to panic. I cannot lose him again, especially over something I didn't do.

"No! Look!" I say, "Bevin's passed out there too! And Chris is still dressed, see!" I pull the covers off his body.

"Hey!" he says pulling the covers back over him, "What if I had been naked?"

"You said you were still dressed."

"I said I thought I was. What if I had been wrong?" Chris asked.

"Lovers quarrel," Lucas says raising an eyebrow.

"As if," Chris mutters, "Peyton didn't sleep with me. I promise you she's not like your last girlfriend. She spent the whole night praising her Lukey."

"Your Lukey?" Lucas smirks looking at me.

"My Lukey?" I say, blushing profusely. I would never call Luke that.

"Yeah, quite sickening actually," Chris whispers, "I'm going to get back to bed now. Why don't you two continue your little conversation someplace else?" I motion to Lucas to wait one second and tip toe behind Chris, who has his eyes closed.

"Goodnight Chris!" I yell in his ear. It hurts me just as much to be speaking this loud, but it's well worth it. He gasps in shock and pulls the covers over his head.

"Bitch," he mutters from underneath them. I smirk before leading Lucas downstairs and outside to the porch. He leans on the railing while I sit in the porch bench.

"I'm sorry about all of this," I say rubbing my temples, "It was a long night last night."

"Hung over?" he asks, smirking.

"Just a bit," I say, my voice cracking, "And it looks as though I smoked too much too."

"You said you'd quit," he says quietly.

"I will now. I feel disgusting."

"I would too if I slept in the same bed as Chris Keller," he says. I look at him seriously.

"You believe me, right?" I say, the worry painfully evident in my voice, "I didn't have sex with Chris Keller."

"I believe you, Peyton," he says, solemnly, "I know you wouldn't do that to me after the whole Brooke thing. I just find it weird that you guys slept in the same bed, drunk and didn't do anything." I bite my lip.

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I'm in love with you," I say simply, "No amount of alcohol will make me forget that." He looks at me and a smile spreads across his face before he looks down. He seems relieved to hear it, but I can also tell he doesn't know how to answer that so I quickly change the subject, "So, what brings you here?"

"Skillz," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"What about him?"

"He wants to get back with Bevin, but he doesn't know where to start. I said that I'd talk to you seeing how close you and Bevin are." I nod my head and frown internally. Here I thought he was coming to see me. I probably shouldn't have blurted out that whole 'I'm in love with you' thing, huh?

"I know Bevin wants Skillz back too. I think the best way to get them back together is make them sit down and talk it all out," I say rationally, "We could have them meet each other at your mom's café."

"That's a good idea."

"Tomorrow?" I ask, "I can have Bevin cleaned up by then."

"No, Skillz doesn't get back from Atlanta until Saturday."

"Saturday then?"

"Sure. I'll call him and let him know," Lucas says. We sit there in silence for a moment. I stretch my arms over my head and feel a rush of dizziness pass over me. I fall a little to the side.

"You ok there?" he asks in a voice that hold concern and amusement.

"Dizzy," I admit, "And I really need a shower."

"Yeah, you smell like cigarettes."

"I smoked almost a whole pack last night," I say looking down at my hands.

"Why, Peyt? You were doing so good."

"I don't know. I just kind of needed a night to let go."

"Don't you let go every night?" My eyes narrow at him. For someone who supposedly understands me, he's doing a terrible job.

"You don't get it, do you?" I huff, "Life's not easy for me, ok? Everyday is different. Some days I feel great. Other days my life is a total mess. And on those days I need something."

"Something doesn't have to be cigarettes and alcohol."

"It doesn't have to but it is," I say rubbing my temples.

"I don't get it," Luke says softly, "But I'm here for you."

"Sure you are," I whisper back, closing my eyes.

"I don't know what you want me to say." I feel the tears leaking out of my eyes now. Sometimes I wonder what makes me so naïve when it comes to Lucas Scott.

"Nothing," I shake my head and stand up, "I'll see you later, Luke."

"Peyt," he says reaching for my arm, but I quickly pull back from his grasp.

"Let me know if Skillz's ok with Saturday." I'm building up my walls again. I can feel it and I think he senses it too.

"No," he says firmly grabbing my shoulders.

"Fine, don't call me. I don't care," I say somewhat sarcastically.

"Peyton, don't do this," he says, "Don't pull away from me just because I don't know what to do. I'm trying to get this. I'm trying to understand you and why you're like this! I'm trying to figure out where my heart's at. But if you pull away from me, we're going to wind up right back at square one!"

"We moved off square one?" I say with a small smirk. He doesn't look too amused. I sigh and give him the benefit of the doubt. "I drank and smoked last night because I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid of the idea that you may not be with me," I whisper timidly. I feel so weak and emotionally attached just saying it, "I never thought about it. After I got my hopes up, I just kept thinking what if you don't want me and then things between us just get weird. What if we wind up not even being friends? What if you go back to Brooke-"

"That won't happen."

"I don't know that though," I say quickly, "I don't know what's going on inside your head, Lucas."

"Well that's the thing," he says, "I don't either. All I know is that I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to say how I feel if I'm not sure about it. I need you to wait for me and at the same time, I need you to be safe."

"Luke, it was one night."

"One night is all it takes to fall into a pit." He's right. My casual drinking and smoking started as a once and a while thing.

"I'll be safe," I say, looking into his eyes, "No cigarettes. No alcohol."

"That's my girl," he says giving me a big hug, "I've got get back to the café. My mom needs my help."

"Ok," I smile slowly pulling out of his embrace, "Call me about Skillz." He nods and leaves. I go back inside and take a shower. When I come out, Rachel is standing at the door of my room.

"You didn't sleep with him," she says, sipping her decaf coffee. I look around her and find Chris still curled up in a ball in my bed.

"That's what he said too," I say.

"You were hammered last night."

"I know. I'm quitting though. No more vices." Rachel snorts in disbelief.

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"I'm not that bad," I say rolling my eyes.

"Last night you were."

"Yeah but that was last night," I say thinking about last night, "And hell Rachel, even you threw back a shot."

"I did not," Rachel says raising her eyebrow.

"Yeah you did. You had one of the cokes Chris ordered." As soon as the words are out of my mouth, Rachel's jaw drops.

"Those had alcohol in them" Rachel exclaims, throwing her hands over her mouth, "I totally don't remember Chris saying that."

"Yeah, he ordered rum and cokes and you drank it. I thought you knew…" I trail off as the tears start to collect in the corners of her eyes. "Hey, Rach, I know you're really into this new, clean life, but one drink's no big deal."

"Yes it is!" she sobs, collapsing on the floor in a pile, "I'm such an idiot!"

"What's wrong?" I ask. She looks at me with pained eyes. I can tell she doesn't want to tell me. "Come on, Rachel. I thought we were honest with each other. When all that shit happened with Lucas, you were the first person I opened up to." She turns her head to the side so she's not looking at me and rests her head against the wall.

"I'm pregnant," she whispers.

"What?" I ask, hesitantly. I'm thinking I heard her wrong.

"I'm a seventeen year old girl who's pregnant with a dead man's child," she says a little louder.

"Who knows?" It's the first thing I can think of to say.

"Just Mouth. He was there at the hospital when they brought in my test results."

"How far along are you?"

"Ten Weeks."

"So that's why you don't drink?" I ask.

"Yes," she says quietly, "And those medications I've been taking aren't for the accident. They're vitamins for pregnancy."

"That explains a lot. The tiredness. The positive outlook on life."

"Well," she says softly, wiping her tears and letting out a small chuckle "I'm going to be a mommy."

"Rach, why didn't you tell Bev and me about this before? We'd have to find out eventually."

"I know but I was putting it off. You and Bevin had so many problems of your own. I didn't want you guys worrying about me."

"That's what friends do, Rachel. They worry."

"I never had friends before really. Just acquaintances. I guess I'm not used to having them."

"Well you do now," I say giving her a hug. Rachel as a mommy. Now there's something I didn't see coming, "How were you going to keep this from everyone else?"

"I figured by the time we graduated I'd only be about five months."

"Are you going to tell Nathan and Deb?" She laughs a little.

"You're just full of questions, aren't you?"

"This is a lot to take in. I want to know everything," I say seriously, "So are you?"

"I don't know. I was hoping I could avoid that."

"You have to," I say seriously. She looks away and shrugs.

"We'll see."

"So how bad is it that you drank?"

"I don't know. If you'd like, you could come with me tomorrow to my doctor's appointment. Mouth's got some family reunion up in Norfolk."

"I'd love to go." We sit in total silence. It's a lot to take in. Your best friend's pregnant with a dead man's child. Oh and that dead man happens to be your ex-boyfriend's uncle. Not to mention, your best friend just drank because you forced her to come hang out with you.

"Congratulations," I say breaking the silence, "You're going to make a great mother."

"Thanks, Peyton. I'm not so sure about that though."

"You will be," I say with a smile, "And I'm sorry about last night."

"It's ok," she says, "My baby's a fighter." She pats her stomach. "It survived the car crash and my drinking at the wedding. The doctors said that they were shocked it held on."

"Did it affect the baby at all?"

"I won't know until its born. It could be special needs or have physical defects. I could lose it."

"That's an awful lot to carry on your shoulders."

"That's life, right? You ought to know all about it, Peyt." We both laugh a little.

"We just can't catch a break, can we, Rach?"


	17. Responsibility Sucks

A/N: Hey y'all. I really enjoyed writing this chapter…I don't know why there's nothing special about it. Not much Leyton or anything…Oh and by the way, there's twenty one chapters to this fic so we're coming to a close soon…So review please!

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

Chapter Seventeen: Responsibility Sucks

February 6th 2006

My hands are shaking as I try to drive. I can't concentrate and I couldn't sleep last night so I'm basically running on empty. I'm especially bitchy and irritable today. I have a headache that's so bad I feel like there's an elephant stomping on opposite sides of my skull. My voice is just starting to come back after a good two hours of morning coughs and phlegm. In laymen's terms, I feel absolutely disgusting.

This is why you don't start smoking. Because quitting is a bitch. I mean it was easy for me to go for days without a cigarette when it was only an occasional thing, but right now my body's coming off of a huge carcinogen intake. So it's kind of like when you're swimming in a pool and the water's really warm. Then, you try to get out and it's freezing cold outside. You know you have to stay out, but your body just wants to jump back in and feel warm again. That's exactly what this is only much worse.

Right now, I'm driving Rachel to the doctor. She's asleep in the passenger side. We had a late night last night. First, we had to tell Bevin about the baby. She hardly seemed surprised. She even admitted she had a feeling and began listing off all the clues she spotted leaving me to wonder how I could have missed them. Then we told Bevin about Skillz. After Bevin was informed, I had to roll Chris Keller out of my bed and out of my house. When night rolled around, Bevin went back out saying she needed some space. I think she's freaking out about confronting Skillz. She doesn't know how to act.

Anyways, Rachel and I tried to go to sleep. I didn't actually get to sleep until four because of my nicotine cravings. I swear to God two second after I closed my eyes, Bevin got home and Rachel started feeling sick. So there was me holding both Rachel and Bevin's hair back as they puke for different reasons. All in all, that didn't help my mood much.

I'm trying to stay positive for Rachel's sake. I know she's really nervous about this visit. This baby may be a fighter, but that doesn't make it any easier on Rachel. If she loses this baby, she will blame herself. She'll go back to her self-destructive habits and start pushing me, Bevin and Mouth away. And that's the last thing she needs right now.

"We're here," I say, gently shaking her as I park in front of the hospital. It's funny how much your priorities can shift from day to day. Two days ago all I cared about was getting Lucas. Now, he's the last thing on my mind…well sort of…It's more the fact that I'm not worrying about his decision. I'm too concerned with Rachel. She looks up at me with the saddest eyes I've ever scene on her and nods. Her hands are fidgeting.

"I'm scared," Rachel whispers. I reach across the seat and hug her.

"It'll be ok, Rach. Come on," I pull back and lead her inside. We wait in silence in the waiting room. Rachel's hand is like a vice grip on my wrist. I can feel her shaking beside me. I turn to look at her.

"It'll be ok, right, Peyt?" she asks.

"Of course. That baby's a Gattina. They're survivors." I give her a smile and she relaxes a little next to me. I glance over at the head nurse who's eying Rachel and me like we've got some sort of disease. She huffs and turns away. She must think we're lesbians or something. I hate people who judge based on nothing, not that there's anything wrong with being gay…I'm just saying.

"Rachel," the huffy nurse calls. Rachel takes a deep breath and looks at me.

"Come with me, please," she whispers. I nod and go with her into the back room, making sure to glare at the rude nurse who rolls her eyes as we pass. We're seated in this little white room with a puppies and kittens border around the top. Rachel props herself up on that uncomfortable table and I sit down in the chair probably reserved for fathers-to-be. Not long after, the doctor arrives.

"Ms. McFadden, you're back early" he says. I give Rachel a strange look. Why is he calling her McFadden? She shakes her head at me, secretively.

"I was in the car accident earlier this year," Rachel says.

"Oh!" he says, "I remember now. We wanted to check you every two weeks, right?"

"Exactly."

"So where's the father today?" Once again, I'm entirely shocked, but I hold it in and go with the flow. You'd think Rachel would have warned me about this.

"Family reunion in Norfolk. I brought my best friend with me," she says, nodding her head towards me. I extend my hand to the doctor.

"Peyton Sawyer," I say as he shakes my hand.

"Dr. Robinson," he says, "Ok, Rachel, any developments that I should know about?"

"I started getting morning sickness."

"Good."

"Not really," Rachel chuckles. He gives her a smile.

"Well good in the medical sense. It means the baby's developing."

"I also accidentally drank a rum and coke," she mutters. Dr. Robinson sighs.

"Oh, Rachel…"

"I know, doctor."

"Hopefully, since the excessive drinking from the wedding didn't hurt this baby, it might not be an issue. We'll make sure, but I'm serious, Rachel. No more drinking."

"It was my fault, doctor," I say, feeling the need to defend her, "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again." He nods at me.

"Ok, I'll send the nurse in to draw some blood." He leaves, shutting the door behind him.

"Ms. McFadden! What the hell?" I ask as soon as he's gone.

"I had to," she mutters, "If I used Cooper's last name, someone would have told Deb. The nurses in this place are total gossipers. And the same goes with my name. My dad is one of the most well known doctors in all of North Carolina. If they found out his precious daughter was pregnant, his reputation would be ruined. So Mouth and I pretended it was our baby."

"Hey Rach," I say, "How are you going to keep this from your parents?"

"I'm not. When they're actually home for more than a couple of hours, I'll sit down and tell them. They'll probably kick me out."

"You can live with me," I say quickly.

"Thanks, but I highly doubt you want a hormonal woman and eventually a crying baby running around your house."

"Umm, newsflash! I had Jake and Jenny living at my house last year. And Jake can get really emotional sometimes." Rachel lets out a small laugh.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I don't mind."

"It should only be until I get enough money for my own place."

"You should talk to Jake. He really knows a lot about this teenage parent stuff."

Rachel nods just as the nurse comes in. A half hour later, Rachel's blood has been drawn and we're heading out the door, with a band aid on her forearm. My nicotine cravings are slowly ebbing away. Once every ten minutes or so, I'll get a jolt and reach for my nonexistent pack of cigarettes.

"Hey," Rachel says from the passenger seat. We're on our way home.

"What?"

"Can you bring me to Deb's house?" she whispers. I nod. This ought to be interesting.

That was interesting. It began as an awkward silence. I can understand that though. I mean hell Deb must have been wondering why the hell we were there in the first place. Then, when we told her, she got angry. Really angry. I think she thought Rachel was lying so she'd get some financial aid from Deb's family. They are, after all, loaded. After much arguing and fighting, we were able to convince her that this baby was indeed Cooper's and that she was not asking for any money. She was just doing the right thing. Deb came around before we left and even offered Rachel a small hug and the promise that she'd tell the rest of her family about the baby.

It's now just around nine o'clock and I'm sketching. Rachel's fast asleep in Brooke's old bed. (I had Mouth help me move it when he came back from his reunion). Bevin fell asleep downstairs and I can't get her to move so I left her there. I'm not tired yet so I'm settling for drawing. The picture is of Rachel in the waiting room. I can't the look of total fear out of my head. The way her eyes were so readable. It wasn't the Rachel I was used to seeing. Just as I go to add the shading under her chin, the phone rings.

"Hello," I answer before a second ring. I don't want to wake up the pregnant woman.

"Sawyer," Nathan says.

"Hey, Nate. How are you?" I say walking out of the room and into my dad's room.

"I'm fine. I hear that I'm going to have a cousin."

"Well, you're awfully blunt."

"My mom just told me. Rachel's pregnant?"

"Yeah."

"How long have you kept this from me?" he asks somewhat heatedly, "You know Peyton you would think that you'd have the decency to-"

"Nate, I've only known for one day," I say, cutting him off before he goes into one of his rants.

"Oh," he sighs, "I just assumed that since you and Rachel were so close you'd have known earlier."

"Nope." There is a long pause where neither of us says anything.

"Well this is awkward," Nathan admits. I can just picture him rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes darting around the room for something interesting to tell me. I save him the trouble.

"How's your wife?" I ask.

"She's good," he seems relieved we've changed the subject, "She got into Duke."

"So that means you guys are going there, right?"

"Yep. You're staying instate, aren't you?"

"I got accepted to UNC so I'll probably go there."

"Lucas is going there," Nathan says offhand, "Oh and speaking of Lucas-"

"Oh dear," I mutter, "I don't like where this is going." Nathan chuckles.

"What's up with you two?"

"Good question. I believe the ball's in his court. I'm just waiting for him to let me know where he stands."

"And where do you stand?" I bite my lip and sigh before answering that.

"I'm in love with him."

"Wow."

"Yeah, I know." There's another long pause. "Listen Nate, I need to get to bed. I'll talk to you later."

"Ok," Nate says, "See you around."

"Bye." I'm going to hang up when Nate cuts me off.

"Hey Peyt."

"Yeah?"

"Lucas would be a fool to give you up."

"Thanks, Nate."

"Night Sawyer."

"Goodnight." I hang up and sigh. I think Nathan and I both know for a fact that Lucas can be a real fool sometimes. Hopefully this won't be one of those times.


	18. How You Get Passion Back

A/N: Ok, so here's the thing. I kind of think this chapter's a little cheesy. But I like it…and there's a little Leyton at the end. Let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

Chapter Eighteen: How You Get Passion Back

February 7th 2006

Describe yourself in one word. It's a pretty difficult question actually. One word to sum up your entire being. The essence of you. How can you do that? Words have boundaries. People don't. Maybe I'm over thinking this one. That's very possible.

Stupid English essay! It shouldn't be this hard. Why can't I just pick a word and be done with it? This is no way to spend your Saturday. Cooped up in a room trying to finish your homework, but I can't drink, I can't smoke and I can't not do my homework. Basically, this sucks because Bevin is going out with Skillz and Rachel has Mouth and I've got homework. Wonderful company that is.

"Purple or pink?" Bevin asks as she paces my room. She's holding two shirts in front of my mirror. Rachel's already left.

"Purple," I mutter as I erase the paragraph I had written. I'm sorry but I can't use the word unique. I bet everyone's going to pick it and therefore, I wouldn't be unique, now, would I? Bevin throws on the purple shirt and checks herself in the mirror.

"Does this look ok?" she asks, frowning slightly. I look up somewhat begrudgingly. She's wearing a deep purple tank top and dark jeans.

"I think it looks very pretty, Bev," I say, sincerely.

"Thanks," she says, plopping down on my bed. She's fidgeting like crazy.

"How long until you meet Skillz?"

"I leave in ten minutes," she says, "I'm really nervous, Peyt."

"No shit," I say sarcastically. Sorry. Sometimes I just can't help it.

"What am I going to say to him?" she whispers, "Where do I even start?" I sigh and turn away from my computer. I really shouldn't be giving advice to anyone. It'd be like a blind lady giving you fashion advice.

"It will come to you naturally. Just be yourself. And make sure he knows you want him back. Don't chicken out and settle for that 'just friends' bullshit." I made sure I air quoted the just friends part. Bevin does something unpredictable. She swoops down and gives me a giant hug.

"What would I do without you Peyton Sawyer?" she sighs.

"I don't know, but life would be a little less interesting," I smirk.

"Ok, I should head out. I want to pick up some stuff on my way." Bevin heads out and that leaves me sitting alone in my room. This totally sucks. Maybe I could call Haley. Oh wait, Haley told me she was hanging out with Brooke today. And Nathan's going to visit his family with his mom to break the news about Rachel's pregnancy. And Lucas…well I don't want to call Lucas because I'm giving him space. Who else is there? As if it was a sign, the phone rings.

"Hello."

"Blondie." Ah, Chris Keller. What a wonderful sign.

"Keller," I say without emotion.

"What are you doing on this fine day?" He's way too happy sometimes.

"Nothing. Trying to do homework."

"How'd you like to hang out with the one and only Chris Keller?"

"Thanks, but no thanks," I say, "I'm promised myself no more drinking and smoking after last time. Plus I really need to get this done."

"That's fine," he says, "I have a show tomorrow so I wasn't planning on getting wasted. I'm just extremely bored." I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I'm really lonely and somewhat desperate. And Chris is pretty cool…oh my gosh something is definitely wrong with me…

"Why don't you come hang out here while I write my crappy essay?"

"You're inviting me over," Chris says unbelievingly.

"Yeah, I am," I say indignantly, "My friends have abandoned me and I'm stuck home alone." Chris clicks his tongue.

"I told you, blondie, I have a girlfriend."

"Not like that, Keller," I say, frustrated, "You called me, remember? Now, do you want to hang out or not?"

"I was just kidding around," he says, "I'd love to hang out with you while you work on your crappy essay."

"Do you remember were the place is?"

"Yeah," he says, "I'll stop by in a few." I hang up the phone and think about my actions. Last time I hung out with Chris Keller things didn't turn out so great. But this time there's no drinking so nothing bad can happen. Right?…Ok, no need to dwell on this.

Chris arrives ten minutes after we hang up and I have to walk all the way downstairs to let him in. I open the door to find Chris with a large suitcase and guitar case in each arm.

"You planning on staying long?" I ask. He smirks at me.

"Actually, no, but the guitar does have a purpose as does the suitcase."

"And that would be?"

"You'll see," he says cryptically as he follows me up to my room. I sit back down at my computer screen while he sits on my floor.

"So what's in the case?"

"A guitar," he says slowly, looking at me strangely. I roll my eyes.

"I meant the suitcase."

"Oh!" he says nodding, "That would be my CD collection. See, I figured I'd help you get your passion back."

"Chris, I'm honored that you would want to spend your Saturday night helping me regain my love of music, but I highly doubt this is something I can get back in one night."

"Wanna bet on it?"

"I have to finish this first. So unless you want to write this paper please be quiet," I huff, deleting another two paragraphs. I don't even know why I chose charismatic in the first place.

"Can I at least play the guitar?" I sigh and roll my eyes.

"Whatever." Maybe background music will help me think. At first, it's nice. A slow, simple melody. Then after a few minutes, it speeds up and I find myself not being able to concentrate on my work. I'm literally sitting there waiting for the next note and the next. Finally after a good five minutes, I tear myself away.

"I'm sorry, Keller, but you've got to stop that."

"Am I distracting you?" he asks.

"Yeah. I can't focus."

"It's ok. Many a girl has been distracted by Chris Keller's charming and sexy persona. Unfortunately I can't turn that off." I narrow my eyes at him.

"You know what I mean." He sighs and puts his guitar down, before sauntering over to my desk.

"What are you working on anyway?" he asks, peering over my shoulder.

"An English essay. I have to describe myself in one word."

"Want some help?" he says.

"You barely know me, Keller. How can you possibly sum me up in one word?"

"Complicated."

"I know, isn't it? This question is damn near impossible," I sigh.

"No. That's the word I'd use."

"Complicated?"

"Complicated," he repeats, "Just look around you." He gestures to my room. "You're the type of person who can be two entirely opposite things at the same time."

"Care to enlighten me?" I say, raising an eyebrow.

"You can be strong and weak. Terribly emotional and a total cold bitch. You're girly and feminine and a tomboy. You are everything and nothing, Peyton. You are complicated."

"Wow," I say, "I'm like the definition of a hypocrite."

"No," Chris says shaking his head, "You can't sum you up as one thing. You're complicated and that's what makes you so cool."

"Are you hitting on me, Chris?" I say, a smirk on my face.

"Ha, ha," he says, rolling his eyes, "You asked. I answered." I stare at the screen. Complicated. It's not a bad idea. I mean I am complicated and it doesn't put any limitations on what I can right about. I mean complicated can cover anything, right?

"Hmm," I hum clicking on and off my document.

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" Chris says, the amusement evident in his voice. I don't respond rather begin typing. _If I had to describe myself in one word, I would choose complicated..._

A half hour later I'm just finishing up my paper. I stuck with the word "complicated" and actually exceeded the length requirements. Chris has kept himself busy reading that copy of Othello Lucas checked out for me. He seems puzzled though. His eyebrows are furrowed and he keeps huffing at every turn of the page. Besides that, he's been pretty quiet.

"Done," I say clicking print.

"Good," he says, looking up from the book, "Because this book was pissing me off. Why are you reading this crap?" I chuckle at him.

"It's Shakespeare."

"No wonder I don't like it," Chris mutters.

"Why'd you keep reading it then?"

"What else could I do? I promised you I'd stay quiet. Plus, I wanted to see if Othello would catch on to Igor's scheme."

"Iago," I correct.

"Whatever. I'm over it," he says tossing the book back onto my dresser, "Ready to regain your love of music?"

"I'm telling you. It can't happen in one night," I sigh, "I don't think it will ever happen." I rub the back of my neck. "I've been trying to get it back. I mean I play the music and try to focus on the lyrics, but the words register. They just don't-"

"Connect," Chris finishes.

"Exactly," I say.

"Well that's because you're listening to crappy music. To get yourself back in the game, you have to steer clear of Emo."

"Why?" I ask furrowing my eyebrows.

"Because Emo is crap," he says simply.

"Says you."

"Says everyone who's not holding a razor blade to their wrists or planning on drugging their ex-girlfriend."

"Are you saying all Emo fans are freaks?"

"Can we stay on topic here?" he says frustratingly, "You're trying to get your passion back-"

"And apparently I can't listen to Emo to do so."

"Right. Not only is it crap, but it's depressing crap. And seeing as you're depressed as it is-"

"How do you know that?"

"Focus, Peyton!" he says heatedly. I'm clearly frustrating and I must admit…I'm doing it on purpose. "Seeing as you're depressed as it is, we need to stick to cheery music."

"But wouldn't I connect better with music that's expressing my current emotions."

"No," he says simply removing a CD from his suitcase. I try to peer over at it but he shields it from me.

"That better not be some boy band crap."

"Do I look the type of person who listens to boy bands?" he asks as he inserts the CD.

"I don't know. You could be Chris Keller, closet N'SYNC fan club member." He ignores my theory.

"Close your eyes," he says, "and just listen to the music." I'm shocked at what he plays. It's not Pop. It's not Rock. It's not R&B or Emo. It's Spanish music. So here's the thing. I took Spanish sophomore and junior year so I know a few phrases. But come on…this is damn near impossible for me to understand. So I just listen to the singer's voice. It sounds painful, almost desperate I'd say. Especially during the chorus. His smooth voice clashes almost violently with the fast beat. Yet, I find myself entranced by the whole combination. I can understand him, though I don't speak his language. When the song ends, I open my eyes and find I've been tapping along on my desk the whole time.

"See Peyton," he says, shutting of the CD, "Music's not about the words. It's about the sound. And there is a difference. It conveys a story through sound." I don't respond verbally. I just stand up and envelop him in a giant hug.

This is freaking weird. Now I want to through on all my albums and figure out the difference. I want to see how the sounds of Led Zepplin and Pink Floyd compare with those of Jimmy Eat World and Fall Out Boy…And just like that. I've got the passion back. Damn, Chris Keller's good.

Three hours have passed and Chris and I are sitting in my closet listening to old music, the stuff we can agree on. Every once and a while, I'll turn off the stereo and see if he can duplicate a certain guitar riff. Most of the time he can. He's studied most of these albums himself. It's around eleven when I barely make out the phone ringing over the cranked up Aerosmith tune. I turn the music down and grab my phone.

"Hello," I answer.

"Hey, Peyton." Lucas responds, "It's me."

"Luke," I say, smiling. I see Chris roll his eyes out of the corner of my eye. I throw a pillow at him. "What's up?"

"I thought you would like to know Bevin and Skillz are back together. They happen to be snuggled up together in the back of my mom's café."

"Were you spying on them?"

"No!" he says, "I just happened to be working at the café tonight." I can see right through his attempt to hide his nosiness.

"For shame, Luke. You were spying on them," I say in a fake disapproving manner.

"Ok, I was," he admits. We both share a small laugh. "So what are you up to?"

"I'm listening to music in my closet with Chris Keller." I've decided to be honest with him. Part of me does it because it's the right thing. The other part wants to see if he's jealous.

"Oh really," he says quietly.

"Yeah," I say, "The girls abandoned me for their boyfriends. Nathan's visiting family and Haley's with Brooke. He was my only choice." Chris looks up from the album he was eying.

"Hey, I heard that!" he says.

"Was that him?" Lucas asks.

"Yep," I say, "What are you up to?" I'm trying to move the subject away from Chris Keller.

"I was just getting off work. I was thinking we could hang out, but if you're busy," he trails off. I bite my lip.

"Rachel's going to be home soon and I promised her I'd help her with her English essay." Oh, how I'm wishing I didn't make that promise.

"Oh," Lucas says sadly. My heart breaks hearing his tone.

"Are you busy tomorrow?" I ask quickly.

"Not really," he says.

"Well, how about we hang out at Rivercourt then? You can teach me some new moves." He lets out a small laugh and I sigh in relief.

"As long as you take it easy on me. I do have a heart condition."

"No excuses, Scott."

"Ok, fine. I'll see you around noon."

"Noon sounds great." We hang up and I have a goofy smile on my face. Because I kind of, sort of have a date with Lucas Scott.

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A/N: Next Chapter: Leyton's quote unquote date. Oh and I actually like Emo...so I'm sorry I had to bash it


	19. The Confession of My Guardian Angel

A/N: So here it is…The Leyton quote unquote date! I hope you like it. Remember only two more chapters left after this (and maybe an epilogue) so please take the time to review! Thanks a bunch!

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

Chapter Nineteen: The Confession of My Guardian Angel

February 8th 2006

_Well I will go down with this ship. And I won't put my hands up and surrender. There will be no white flag above my door. I'm in love and always will be_. - Dido

I'm going to be late. I can tell. It's already 11:50 and I'm still waiting for Rachel to finish my hair. I know! I know what you're thinking…we're just going to play basketball, but I have to look good. Besides, she's just putting it up in a ponytail. But it's a pretty ponytail.

"Hold still," Rachel mutters through the bobby pin in her mouth. I'm fidgeting again.

"I'm trying!" I exclaim.

"I'll be done in like two seconds and then you can rush off to Prince Charming."

"Why am I even doing this?" I sigh. I'm going into panic mode. Once again, I'm contemplating running away from him. It sounds so much easier.

"Because you're in love with him," Rachel says as she adjusts the last bobby pin in my hair, "And that won't go away no matter how much you want it to. In fact, I'm pretty sure it would only get worse."

"But-" I have a whole list of buts, but she cuts me off.

"No buts, Peyton Elizabeth!" Rachel hisses pushing me out of my chair, "Now off you go!" I sigh and begrudgingly reach for my leather jacket. It's pretty cold today surprisingly. As I drive to Rivercourt, I instinctively reach for my cigarettes before remembering I quit. Right now I'm nervous and a cigarette would be really nice. But then I remember why I quit. For Lucas.

I pull up to Rivercourt at 12:10. Lucas is already shooting hoops. I'm not surprised. I get out of the car quickly. For some reason, I'm almost afraid he might leave. Or disappear. It'd be my luck.

"Hey, Luke," I say approaching him from behind. He spins around to look at me and big smile appears on his face.

"Peyton," he says walking towards me. I notice his basketball is slowly rolling off the court and into the grass.

"Sorry, I'm late," I say, fidgeting with my hands. I could really use that cigarette. I'm extremely nervous.

"It's ok. I like your hair." I unconsciously twirl one of the pieces hanging down.

"Thanks," I say softly, "So what moves are you going to teach me?"

"How much do you know?"

"Uh, basically nothing." We both share a laugh and the tension just sort of ebbs away. I spend the next hour trying to learn how to dribble without looking at the ball, twirl the ball on my finger and shoot from the free throw line. It was really nice…ok it was amazing! Especially whenever he stood behind me and guided my hands through each shot. God, he smelled good…ok, focus.

"Can we take a break, hot shot?" Lucas asks as he rebounds a shot I took.

"What? Are you tired?" I say sarcastically. He gives me a look. "Ok, fine!" I sigh dramatically as I make my way to the bleachers. Lucas sits beside me, offering me a water bottle. I take it and guzzle half of it in one sip.

"Someone was thirsty," he says as I slam the bottle down next to me.

"Hell yeah! You worked me like a dog."

"You wanted to keep going," he shrugs. Of course, I did. I was having fun basking in his presence, feeling his hands on mine. But I don't tell him that. I just smile and take a much smaller sip of my water. There's a long stretch of silence where he and I just sort of take in the atmosphere.

"So what next?" I ask stretching out my legs on the bleachers.

"We could go grab something to eat at my mom's café," he suggests.

"I think we should steer clear of there. Chris and Rachel said they were going there for lunch."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Chris loves your mom's coffee." We drift back into silence…this time it's a bit more uncomfortable. I probably shouldn't have mentioned Chris.

"I have a confession," he says breaking our silence. I look over at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What's that?"

"I'm jealous." He looks awfully embarrassed. He's trying to hide it by cleaning the imaginary scuffs off his shoes.

"Jealous of what?"

"Chris Keller," he mutters. It's so quiet, I almost don't hear him.

"What was that?" I ask with a smirk. I did hear him, but I can pretend otherwise, right? He sighs dramatically.

"I said I'm jealous of Chris Keller."

"And why would you be jealous of him?"

"Because you thought about hanging out with him yesterday before you even called me," Lucas says, "God, I'm such a girl."

"No you're not," I assure him, patting his hand, "The reason I didn't call you was because I thought you needed time to figure out what's going on in that head of yours. Then Chris called me and I was so bored, I figured why not invite him over?"

"Maybe because he's evil," Lucas mutters, apparently answering my rhetorical question.

"Luke! He's not evil," I say biting my lip, "He's actually pretty cool, in fact."

"Well, why don't you just marry him then?" He sounds like a child saying it and I can't help but roll my eyes and laugh.

"I can't marry him," I say softly, "Because I'm in love with someone else. See, Chris Keller is my friend. But you, Lucas Scott, are my…well I don't have a title for you." Lucas looks down at his hands, a soft smile still gracing his lips.

"I'm yours."

"Hmm?" I ask. I didn't quite get that…or I just heard it wrong. Because it sounded like he said he was mine. And I can't see him saying that. He places his hands on my shoulders and turns me to face him.

"I said I'm yours," he says, his hands cupping my face, "If you'll still have me after all the crap I put you through."

"That's a lot of crap to just forget," I sigh jokingly. His lips are achingly close to mine. I'd love nothing more than to just reach up and capture them, but he starts to speak again before I have a chance. He turns his head to face the court.

"This past month and a half has been terrible without you. At first, I thought I missed you as a friend. But you don't miss a friend's touch. Or the look they get in their eyes' when they're telling you about a good day. You don't get mad or nervous when you hear yet another boy asked this friend out-" I chuckle at him. "And feel your heart leap a little when yet again she turns him down. Most importantly you don't dream of kissing that friend." He pauses to take a deep breath and turns back to look me in the eyes, "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I love you Peyton. I always have and probably always will. And no matter how hard I try to hide it, it just won't quit. It always leads back to you. And I would love if you'd be my girlfriend."

"I'd like that a lot," I say. He draws closer and our lips are just about to touch when his phone rings. We both pull back a little shocked at the noise. Then, he moves closer again.

"I'll ignore it," he murmurs.

"You better answer it," I say, "It could be your mom."

"Nice way to ruin the mood," he says pulling out his phone. I watch as he talks to his mom. I'm not really listening to what he says. My stomach is busy filling with butterflies. I'm Lucas Scott's girlfriend…Do you know how long I've waited to say that?

"Bad news," he says, hanging up the phone. I'm snapped out of my trance and my eyes flicker over to meet his.

"What?"

"My mom needs me to get home now. We have to leave for her doctor's appointment in Charlotte."

"Charlotte?"

"Yeah, she found the doctor who delivered me. He's practicing in Charlotte."

"Oh, cool," I say, retying my shoe.

"I'm going to be gone all of tonight and tomorrow."

"Not cool. I finally get you to profess your love and you're leaving for two days."

"More like one and a half," he says, "I'll call you as soon as I get home tomorrow."

"Fine," I sigh.

"I can't kiss you now, huh?"

"It kind of seems rushed," I admit. I'm sure the kiss would be great, but I want it to be special because I know I'll remember it for the rest of my life.

"If she would have called one minute later," he sighs.

"Well, if you hadn't spent the last few minutes giving me a sappy love speech," I trail off jokingly.

"You know you loved it," he smirks.

"Go!" I say, "Before your mother worries."

"I'll see you when I get back, right?"

"Of course," I say, "You owe me a kiss." He plants a small kiss on my forehead before taking off. I stay on the bleachers with a silly grin on my face. This is a good day. This is definitely a good day.

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**So Leyton's together but no kiss...I promise you'll get one by the end...Hope you liked it :)**


	20. Olive Branch

A/N: Second to last chapter…and a long one at that! So I expect a nice long review. lol. I'm j/k! Short reviews are good too! Ok, I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

Chapter Twenty: Olive Branch

February 9th 2006

Am I beautiful? It's a question I ask every morning when I wake up. I sit in front of my vanity, brushing my hair. It's an objective question, isn't it? I mean some might find me plain. Some may think my nose is too big or my chin is too pointed. Some may say that dying my hair blonde just makes me another bimbo. Or maybe people see me as breathtaking. Maybe they love my eyes. I've been told that they change color. They can be green or brown. Maybe my smile is charming (on the rare occasion that you see it). I'm thin, but does that make me beautiful? I don't think so. But then again, I still don't know if I'm beautiful. I guess it's up to everyone else to decide.

I keep thinking about how Jake used to call me beautiful. He used to just stare at me and I'd get nervous and ask what was wrong. He'd say, "you're beautiful, Peyton." And I'd smile. I just can't help but wonder if Lucas sees me as beautiful. It shouldn't be important. If he loves me, that's enough…but I want to be beautiful. I want to be perfect. Because Lucas deserves a perfect woman.

Paranoia. I think that's what they call this. I'm afraid he's not going to like me. Or that he'll constantly be comparing me to Brooke. Wondering if he made the right choice. Thinking he'd have been better off with Brooke. Now I know what it must be like to be Brooke…

"Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer!" Bevin calls up the stairs, "We need to leave now!" It's a school day. Ugh! I wish school was just over. I can already tell that this day is going to be craptastic.

"I'm coming," I shout back down stairs as I pull on my jacket. I run down the stairs and I'm shocked to see Rachel's missing.

"Sawyer, we're going to be late," Bevin sighs, "And I promised Skillz I'd meet him out front."

"Boo hoo, Bevin," I say, grabbing my lunch out of the fridge, "Where's Rachel?"

"Mouth picked her up a half hour ago. She needed to talk to the counselor and the principal this morning about the baby."

"Oh," I say, "So today's judgment day?"

"Basically," Bevin and I both lapse into silence as we drive off to school. We're both silently hoping and praying that they don't kick Rachel out. Or make her take private lessons and not graduate with us.

We don't see Rachel until lunch. Bevin and I are forced to eat inside with the rest of the seniors because it's raining. The only table left is right in the center where everyone can watch you eat (as if I wasn't self conscious enough). We scan the room looking for a flash of red hair.

"No sign of Little Mermaid?" Bevin whispers.

"Sorry, Cinderella," I sigh. In case you're wondering, Rachel's the Little Mermaid. I'm goldilocks, and Bevin's Cinderella. We came up with the names when we were watching Disney movies last night. See, that's what happens when you stop going out.

"Do you think they sent her home?"

"Well, I haven't seen Mouth yet either so maybe they're still in a meeting. Hey where's that boyfriend of yours?"

"Skillz tutors during lunch." I look at her oddly.

"Somehow I don't see Skillz as a tutor."

"It looks good for college," Bevin shrugs. Suddenly, her eyes light up. "Rachel!" I turn around abruptly to see Rachel and Mouth heading toward us.

"This sucks," Rachel says, "I really wanted to eat outside." Mouth sits across from me and Bevin.

"Hey babe," I say giving her a one-armed hug when she sits down next to me, "So what's the verdict?"

"I get to stay." Both Bevin and I let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank God."

"I know," she sighs, "The principal said that I'd have to leave at eight months but since I'd only be five months pregnant by graduation, it's all good."

"So what took you so long?" I ask.

"My parents were there," Rachel frowns, "It looks like I will need to stay with you."

"It's ok, Rachel," Mouth says softly, patting her hand. She gives him a weak smile and I have to smile at the two. I think they have a good chance at lasting.

"Do you have to keep it a secret?" Bevin asks.

"Nope. He suggested that I tell people on my own terms. He warned me that rumors were bound to happen."

"How are you going to tell people?" I wonder out loud, "Or when for that matter?"

"Like this," Rachel says, with a wicked grin on her face. She abruptly stands up and climbs on to the table.

"Rachel!" I hiss, "Get down before you hurt yourself." She ignores me.

"Excuse me everybody!" she yells, "May I have your attention?" The room gets incredibly silent within a couple of moments and Rachel clears her throat. "My name is Rachel Gattina. Some of you may know me. Some of you may not. I just wanted to make this clear before all the rumors start. I am, indeed, two months pregnant." It's here where the whispers break out. Rachel continues in a louder voice, "and I'm keeping the baby. The father of the child is none of your damn business but I'm sure none of you know him. He doesn't go here. Feel free to call me a whore or a slut. It really doesn't matter. But leave my child out of this. In fact, if you insult my child, then know I will make your life a living hell. Thank you! That's all" She goes to step off the table, but pauses and steps back up, "Oh wait! I also wanted to say that I'm dating Mouth but he's not the father so leave him out of this too." She steps back down as the murmurs grow back into normal conversation.

"Bravo, Rachel," I smirk.

"I thought that was the easiest way to do it. This way there's no rumors."

"There'll still be rumors," Mouth says quietly.

"Yeah, but not as many."

"I'm proud of you," I say, giving her a big hug. My eye immediately catches Brooke's. She gives me a sad smile before looking away. Did Brooke just smile at me?

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I'm currently sitting on my front porch, legs tucked under me. I should be sitting on an actual chair, but the wood is so much nicer. I'm sitting right in front of my door, looking out at the street before me. The houses lining the streets are all glowing in the sunset. It's really beautiful. I'm trying to capture on paper, but I think it's impossible to capture something that looks this amazing. I can't even describe it. I'm crouched over my sketch trying to shade my picture when I hear a car door slam. The light blinds me as I look up but I can make out the figure clearly.

"Brooke?" I ask somewhat bewildered. It's weird how the light is casting around her, making her almost glow like the houses. Her hair looks almost auburn because of it.

"Sawyer," she says shoving her hands in her pockets as she approaches my house. It's a habit she probably picked up from Lucas. It feels weird to be thinking of Lucas, my boyfriend (I had to add that), while she's here.

"What brings you here?" I ask bringing my hand up to block the sun.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Ok," I say slowly, wondering where this is going, "Would you like to come inside? The light is blinding me."

"That would be fine." Brooke's pretty unreadable right now. So, I just nod and lead her up to my room. I sit on the edge of the bed as she lingers at the doorway. We seem to be stuck in an awkward silence.

"So, what's up?" I say breaking our silence.

"I'd like for you to rejoin the cheerleading squad." She's looking over my vanity, picking up all of the make-up Rachel left out and scrunching her nose at it.

"Umm, why?" I ask.

"Because you're good and let's face it my squad sucks without you. That and the absence of your friends."

"Right," I drawl.

"Think of this as a grape vine," Brooke says simply. I look at her with raised eyebrows.

"A what?"

"A grape vine. You know! An offering of peace!"

"Oh," I chuckle, "You mean an olive branch"

"Same thing," she says waving it off, "Practice tomorrow at three thirty. Make sure you bring Bevin and Rachel with you."

"Umm Rachel's pregnant, remember?"

"How could I forget her speech?" Brooke smirks, "I'd like her there to help plan the routine. I know how much she loves cheerleading."

"You're being awfully nice." She doesn't say anything but she points up at the drawing on my wall.

"I saw your drawing when I came to get my stuff," she says quietly, "The snow fort one with the caption before the world happened." She takes a seat next to me on the bed. "At first, I got angry seeing it. I kept thinking the world didn't happen. Lucas did. We ruined our relationship over a boy." She sighs and grabs my hand, "Then I realized it was more than Lucas. You were right, Peyton. I'm a terrible friend-"

"Brooke," I try to stop her, feeling bad for what I said before.

"No, wait Peyton! I need to say this! I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I was so paranoid about my relationship with Lucas that I didn't even think about how those feelings you felt must have hurt you. I know you didn't want to hurt me. I know you would have suppressed those feelings. But you and I both know now it wouldn't have mattered. Lucas loves you more. I knew it. I just didn't want to admit it." She takes a deep breath and looks me in the eyes. "I'm sorry I hit you and I'm sorry I spread rumors about you and acted like a total bitch." As soon as she's done, I give her a big hug and watch as my tears roll down my cheek and onto her shoulder.

"I'm sorry I fell in love with your boyfriend."

"He's your boyfriend now," she says, "Just do me a favor and don't act all coupley around me for awhile."

"How did you find out?" I stutter out through my shock. I've only told Rachel and Bevin.

"Lucas came to me first before you're little get together at Rivercourt. He told me how he felt and for once, I was supportive no matter how much it hurt. Because you're right. He deserves to be happy. And you, Peyton Sawyer, have always been the best at making him happy."

"Brooke-"

"That being said you're also the best at depressing him. So try to refrain from doing that," she smirks, "Or I'll have to beat your little ass." We both share a laugh. "Well, I got to get home." She stands up and makes her way to the door.

"Brooke!" I call out. She turns around and looks at me.

"What?"

"What does this make us?"

"We're not friends," she says. I frown, but it lightens when she finishes, "But we're not enemies. And maybe one day we'll get there." She sends me a small smile and leaves. We haven't even touched on our problems. The fact that I broke her trust. The fact that she spread viscous rumors about me. But hell, I've got some hope for us.

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"Ok, Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom and Jake Gyllenhaal," I hear Rachel say as I round the corner.

"Easy. Kill Jake Gyllenhaal. Marry Orlando Bloom. Be intimate with Johnny Depp," I can almost see Bevin blushing as I approach the door.

"Oh, Bev, don't be so modest. You'd screw Johnny Depp."

"What the hell are you guys doing?" I ask as I enter the room with our drinks.

"It's called screw, marry and kill. Somebody lists off three people and you have to decide who you'd screw, who you'd marry and who'd you kill. The trick of it is that you can't sleep with who you choose to marry. And the guy you screw you can only screw once and then never see again."

"Wow," I say giving Bevin her coke, "You guys have a lot of time on your hands."

"You cannot tell me you've never heard of this game!" Rachel says in awe.

"I haven't."

"Well then you're just gonna have to give it a try!" Bevin says.

"I'm good really."

"Nice try! You have to!" Rachel whines, tugging at my sleeve.

"Fine."

"Ok, Rachel and I are going to come up with a good one." Rachel and Bevin start whispering back and forth, giggles escaping from their little huddle every once and a while. And I feel like that gangly little girl who's left out in the cold. Only I know better.

"Ok," Rachel says perking up, "Have we got one for you!"

"Oh no," I mutter.

"Oh yes," Bevin says with a smirk, "Jake, Nathan and Lucas." I look at her with wide eyes.

"I thought this was about celebrities!"

"No. It can be anyone."

"I can't do this!"

"Come on, goldilocks," Rachel sighs, "It's not like this situation will ever really arise." I roll my eyes.

"Fine," I say stretching my arms over my head, "I'd definitely marry Lucas." That response comes natural, but Rachel and Bevin look at me confused and a bit shocked. "What?" I ask.

"You do realize that means no sex."

"Yeah but I could never see him again if I slept with him."

"Aww," Bevin squeaks, "That's so sweet!"

"But if you slept with him, you'd at least get a great parting gift!"

"Rachel Danielle Gattina, you did not just say that!" I chuckle, "I can't imagine life without Lucas in it!" Wow. I can't believe I just said that.

"Ok, fine. I get it. You'd marry lover boy," Rachel says rolling her eyes, "What about Jake and Nathan?" I bite my lip. This is such an awkward question. But I know how I have to answer. It was my instinct.

"I'd kill Jake, screw Nathan." Both of their mouths drop open.

"You'd kill Jake?" Rachel says in disbelief.

"Uh, well…Nate was better," I mumble. Oh Lord! Did it suddenly get really hot in here? I'm fanning myself with my assignment notebook. I need to turn on the fan or something…

"Nathan was better than Jake? I didn't know you slept with Nathan!" Rachel says.

"Oh yeah. Nathan and Peyton were Tree Hill's 'it' couple sophomore and the beginning of junior year."

"Wow. Ok, details!" Rachel says throwing her hands up, "I've always wanted to know what he's like in bed." I'm saved from the awkwardness of having to answer that by the phone. I sigh in relief as Rachel grumbles answering it for me.

"Hello, Sawyer residence, Rachel Gattina speaking," she says in her most polite voice. Bevin and I crack up laughing in the background. "Why hello, Mr. Scott! You're wife is right next to me!" Rachel grins handing me the phone, "Your husband, precious Peyton." I send her a quick scowl.

"Hi Luke," I say, cheerily.

"When did we get married?" he chuckles.

"Oh, we were just playing this game," I say. I proceed to explain the circumstances of the game in detail.

"So we'd be married but never…well…be intimate," Lucas mutters. Aww! He's so cute when he's embarrassed.

"Luke, it's just a game."

"I know," he says a little bit defensively causing me to chuckle, "So wait, if you didn't chose me, then who'd you…"

"Decide to screw?" I cut him off before he gets too tongue tied.

"Yeah."

"Umm, can I not answer that?"

"It's not big deal. Jake or Nathan? I won't take it personally."

"Fine," I sigh, "Nathan."

"Nathan! Why would you choose Nathan?" he blurts out.

"You said you wouldn't get mad!"

"I'm not mad! I'm just shocked! I assumed you'd choose Jake." I try to hold back my laughter. "Why'd you choose Nathan?"

"Do you really want to know?" I say, barely containing my giggle.

"No," he says quickly, "No I don't."

"Let's change the subject," I chuckle, "So you're home then?"

"Yes, I am," he says, the frustration barely ebbing away from his voice.

"When can I see you?" I immediately feel like an idiot for sounding so giddy.

"You could come over right now," Lucas suggested.

"I don't have my car. Rachel let Chris borrow it." I glare at Rachel. I knew letting her do that would come back to haunt me.

"Well I don't have my car either. My mom went to see Deb."

"Tomorrow then?"

"Yeah I guess," he says letting out a huge sigh.

"I'm sorry, babe," I say, "I wish I could see you tonight."

"Well not to sound creepy but I'm watching you right now." I stop pacing in my tracks (a habit I have when talking on the phone) and glance around the room.

"What?"

"Webcam." I turn to my computer and see that sure enough the webcam is switched on.

"Oh," I say giving a little wave to the camera, "Hi!" He chuckles at me.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" I smile recalling this morning's thoughts.

"Really?"

"Yeah," he sighs, "So beautiful that I can't help staring at you. Even if it is through the webcam." I sit down in my computer chair and bring my face really close to the camera.

"I wish I could see you back," I say, "You should get a webcam."

"I should."

"How often do you watch me?" I have to ask it. Because it's both flattering and unnerving. I'm a very self conscious person.

"You know this is embarrassing to say but I used to watch you during those three weeks you weren't talking to me. I checked on you every night to make sure you got home safe. And once and awhile I'd watch you sketch."

"Oh wow," I whisper with a frown.

"And now you think I'm a creep. I can see you frowning." I look into the camera and sigh.

"No!" I say, "I'm just a little surprised. I never imagined you'd still be watching me after junior year. But it's kind of sweet."

"Or really creepy."

"Both, babe," I laugh.

"I love you Peyton."

"I love you too."

"Meet me at the beach tomorrow." I sigh just thinking about all those days we spent on the beach. I wouldn't trade those days for anything. He was there for me like he had never been there before. I can still remember the feeling of his arms wrapped around me that night. It was the first time we had touched in months and yet there was still that familiar aching when we hugged. And I may have ignored it, but at that point I knew I was still in love with him.

"Sounds good. What time?"

"One?"

"Ok," I say softly, "I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too," he sighs, "Ok, I'm going to get some sleep. Goodnight, Peyt."

"Goodnight, Luke." We hang up and I see that Rachel and Bevin have wandered downstairs. I smile and lean into the camera placing a small kiss on the lens. As I pull back, I mouth the words, 'Love you' before I shut it off. I can't wait until tomorrow.

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**One more chapter to go! And maybe an epilogue...Oh and btw, Screw, Kill, Marry is a real game. I didn't make it up! lol.**


	21. Finding Happiness Here

A/N: Ok, so this is supposed to be the final chapter...but I thought of an idea for the epilogue...so I may post an epilogue! I want to thank you all for all your wonderful support and reviews! This was my first long fic and it really helped having all this encouragement! I never expected for this fic to be this popular. It puts a lot of pressure on me for the next one. (And I've already started working on the next one). Thank you once again! And as always, enjoy and review!

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill

Chapter Twenty-One: Finding Happiness Here

February 10th 2006

Someone once asked me, do you wake up lonely, Peyton? Do you feel as if the walls are always crashing down around you? Do you wish someone would reach in and pull you out? Do you long for that loving touch that only one extremely special person can give you? The person who asked me these questions was Brooke. She was drunk as hell that night. And she kept giggling and rolling around on my bed while I tried to get her to go to sleep. Suddenly she became quiet and called my name softly. I turned to look at her and she began rambling off those questions. And she ended by saying, "I know you're lonely Peyton. And I know that sometime soon I'm not gonna be the person to save you from that. I just hope someone comes along to do it for me."

Brooke Davis. Teenage prophesier. We were only fourteen at the time. Two years before Lucas Scott was more than a face in the crowd. Two years before it all and she already knew things would change. I learned a long time ago that when drunk, Brooke Davis proved she wasn't naïve. It scared me then. I didn't want to lose her and that's exactly what it sounded like would happen. Brooke and I were so different. We were bound to drift. But two years into high school we were still hanging on.

I wonder if Brooke remembers those words. I wonder if she thinks back now and realizes that she was talking about Lucas. He's the one who's going to save me. Like always. Lucas Scott is everything to me. And I often wonder how it got that way. How did he break down my walls? How did he become 'the one' in a matter of so little time? These questions have no real answers. I just have to learn to accept it. And I do. Because I like it this way. I wouldn't trade Lucas for anything.

I'm currently sitting on the beach. I couldn't sleep last night. As soon as Chris came back with my car, I sped off here. It was 4:48 when I got here. I didn't plan on staying here until my date with Lucas. I mean I'm wearing the first pair of jeans and t-shirt I could find. But I couldn't bring myself to leave. I kept thinking about the future. What will it bring?

A year from now, I can picture myself sitting here with Lucas. We'll be home from UNC visiting his mom and Rachel. My dad will still be out on his dredging boat. I can picture Rachel pacing the beach with Mouth and her baby. I picture the baby as a boy. I see Karen across from her with her daughter showing the two how to play together, but they're too young to register any of it. I see Skillz trying to dunk Bevin in the water while she shrieks in protest. Nathan and Haley will be hand in hand watching Rachel and her baby and maybe speculating about their own child still to come. Chris will be providing us with some background noise, playing a cover of that Led Zepplin tune he liked so much. Brooke. I see Brooke there. She'll be laying on her stomach while her current boy toy rubs suntan oil on her back. I'll be sipping a margarita. And right there with me will be Lucas with his arms wrapped around my waist.

It may be a fairytale. To believe that all of us will be that happy a year from now. Who knows what could happen? People change. People die. People leave. I can't expect us all to be the same. Or even happy at all. I can't honestly say that Lucas and I will still be together a year from now. But right now it doesn't matter. Because at this moment, I'm happy and hopeful.

I burry my feet deep in the sand as a sharp wind blows through. As I turn to the left, I see a figure approaching me and my face lights up. It's Lucas. He's wearing khaki shorts, a button up shirt and sandals along with that devilish smirk he always has. I send a soft smile his way.

"Hey babe," he says as he sits down beside me, "You're early."

"I've been here awhile."

"Really? If I would have known that, I would have come sooner."

"I've been here since about four o'clock."

"You wanted to see me that bad?" Lucas smirks.

"Oh yeah. I was just counting the seconds," I say sarcastically. I really was.

"Ouch, Peyt. Ouch!" he says dramatically placing his hand over his heart, "And you call yourself my girlfriend." He wraps an arm around my shoulders. "So why'd you come to the beach so early then?"

"I couldn't sleep. And then I couldn't bring myself to go home to change for our little rendezvous." I watch out of the corner of my eye as his eyes drift over my appearance.

"Why would you have to change? You look gorgeous."

"Thanks, Luke, but I'm not wearing any make-up. This shirt has a hole on the bottom and my hair is all over the place."

"And yet you're still the most beautiful girl I've ever met. You could be bald and wearing a potato sack and I'd still think that."

"Should I hold you to that? Because I've always thought about shaving my head."

"Ha, ha," he says. I snuggle closer to him, wrapping my own arms around his torso. I look up at his face. My eyes are fixed on his chin. They trace his jaw line and around his ear. I notice the exact coloring of his eyes. They're crystal blue with flecks of gray around the pupil. He's concentrating on the ocean, but I can tell he's thinking about something much more serious. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are somewhat pursed. I love his lips most of all. They're so soft and plump. I just want to reach up and touch them. Or even cover them with my own. Just as the thought crosses my mind, a smirk crawls onto his face.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asks. I feel my cheeks go red.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask trying to cover my embarrassment.

"Do I get to kiss you now? Because I've been waiting quite a while to do that," he asks. I chuckle at him. We must be on the same brain wavelengths.

"Yes," I say, "But just so you know, I want to take this slow."

"How slow?" he asks raising an eyebrow, "Like you and Jake slow or like Nathan and Haley slow?"

"If we went at Nathan and Haley's pace, Lucas, we'd be married in a week."

"Well, we are on their beach right now. I think they got married over there, in fact." He points over a hill, "I meant Nathan and Haley the second time around."

"What am I going to do with you?" I chuckle.

"I think you're going to kiss me," he says. I sigh dramatically before pressing my lips gently on his. Oh are those lips kissable! And now I'm sure this is where I want to be.

Three weeks can change a lot of things. In three weeks, I went from a broken, miserable person to finally having something to look forward to. A happy relationship with Lucas. Finally after all the heartache and disappointment, I get what I deserve. And I have to thank my mothers for that. Because I know they're smiling down on me.


	22. Epilogue: Getting What You Deserve

A/N: Ok, here's the epilogue...It's not very long but I just felt this is how I wanted to end it. I wanted people to know what happened with Brooke and Peyton, Rachel's baby and of course Leyton! So hopefully you enjoy it! And as always, reviews would be spectacular! Oh and check out my new work…Nothing and Everything! I promise it's good! Well, at least I hope it is...

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill

Epilogue: Getting what you deserve

I'm crazy. Yes, me, Peyton Sawyer. It's been a year since I tenderly planted my lips on Lucas Scott's oh-so-kissable ones. And surprisingly, one year later I'm still smiling. I'm not going to lie to you and say that it hasn't been hard. There are times I want to jump out my window or crawl under the covers and wait for better days. I still reach for a bottle of bourbon when it rains, knowing I won't find any in our house. And I'd be lying if I told you I still don't sneak a cigarette out on porch when Lucas leaves to get dinner. I'd also be lying if I said I didn't know he knew that.

Lucas and I have been living together for four months now. We're actually living in my dad's house. My father decided to live out his dream and take a sailing trip around the world with some of his dredging buddies. Instead of putting the house up for sale and as a result putting Rachel out on the street, he sold it to me for one dollar. It was, after all, already paid for. So Rachel lives with us and she sleeps with her newborn in my dad's room. Her son will eventually be staying in the spare room and Lucas and I are in my room. Most of the time, Rachel's at Mouth's house so Lucas and I have had a lot of time to ourselves. I love living with him.

We ride together in the morning to college. We scheduled our classes so that they're at the same time. We eat lunch together outside on campus. We've really turned into one of those sickly sweet couples that make you gag. But I don't care. Because I like being all coupley with him. Especially when we get home and make dinner. We can barely keep our hands off each other.

Right now we're sitting on the beach. Like we were a year ago. It's a big birthday party for Bevin. She and Skillz are going away next week for her real birthday. It's kind of freaking me out how I predicted this. It's like a strange sense of déjà vu. Karen gave birth to a little girl and named her Hannah Willa Scott. The birth happened one day after Rachel had her own son. She named him Sawyer Andrew Gattina. Those two babies are sitting next to a sandcastle Karen, Rachel and Mouth built. They look so enamored with the sand. Sawyer keeps scrunching it in his hands and Hannah wants to eat it.

If you're wondering, Sawyer was indeed named after me. At first, she was going to name him Peyton, but that would be too awkward. You have no idea how honored I was when she told me. I think I cried. Sawyer is a miracle child. He not only was born full term, but he came out without a scratch on him. He was fully developed and no signs of mental defects. Oh and Haley and Nathan just got here. They're matching. I don't think it was on purpose but both of them are wearing Duke t-shirts and jeans. Oh and guess what? Haley's pregnant! She's four months pregnant. Due in June.

But my favorite story of all has to be Brooke's. You see, Brooke went off to NYU for college. She and I kept in touch, and everyday we're getting closer to where we once were. She told me she got this great boyfriend who lived a couple blocks off her campus. He treated her really well and according to her the sex was amazing. Totally, not something I wanted to hear. But she was happy and that's all that mattered. So I asked her to bring her boyfriend home for the engagement party.

So there she is laying on her stomach, her bikini top untied so she had no tan lines. Her boyfriend is rubbing the suntan oil on her back. He's taking a break from annoying the hell out of me as only he can. He's my best guy friend. He's Chris freaking Keller, and he's dating Brooke Davis. And they're pretty serious. I didn't know this until this morning when they showed up hand-in-hand. See, I may talk to Chris every night, but we never talk about his relationships. Because I just assumed there's a different girl every night, but I was wrong.

"Is this weirding you out?" Lucas whispers in my ear as he slides behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.

"What? Brooke and Chris?"

"Yeah."

"Umm I don't know. I think I'm still too shocked to respond."

"I think it's weird. I just keep thinking of that night I found them together."

"Oh Luke," I say softly turning my head to face him. We share a passionate kiss and as we pull back, he smiles.

"All better now." I chuckle and place my hands over his.

"Life's great right now," I say leaning my head back on his shoulder. He reaches down and places a small kiss where my shoulder meets my neck. I feel my eyes flutter closed.

"Marry me, Peyton." And just like that they snap open as I quickly turn around.

"What?" I croak out, my voice barely able to contain the emotion behind it. His eyes are shut I notice and they slowly open to look at me. He gets down on one knee and pulls out a black velvet box.

"It's simple really, Peyt. I can't imagine life without you. And it feels like you and I have already missed out on so much. I don't want to lose another day. I want to be with you forever. So I'm asking you to be my wife and make me the happiest man on the face of this Earth." The first thing I notice when his speech is over is that all of our friends and family are staring at us with dropped jaws. I bite my lip and smile at him reassuringly. I don't know if this is the best path I could take. I don't know if it's the right one All I know is what I feel in my heart as I look at our surroundings. This is where I always want to be.

"I'm yours," I say, echoing the words he used at Rivercourt not too long ago, "if you'll have me after all the crap I've put you through." He smiles as he stands up and shakily removes the small diamond ring from the box and places it on my finger. I can barely hear the clapping in the background as I pull him in for a lingering kiss. This is definitely the best day of my life.


End file.
